


Little Hero

by underwaterocean



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Blood and Injury, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Loss of Parent(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Calamity Ganon, Sad, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-19 16:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 36
Words: 125,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20660006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underwaterocean/pseuds/underwaterocean
Summary: Before Link was the Hylian Champion, he was a rambunctious and imaginative child. Somewhere along the way, childhood meets destiny and his life alters in unspeakable ways.





	1. Humble Beginnings

Rain fell on the sleepy white house in Hateno Village. Tucked beneath the stairs was a bed and in the bed lay a quiet boy. _Quiet for the first time in days_, his mother thought as she lay upstairs in her own bed. The boy's father was far away, leaned against the cold stone of the castle walls, wondering what the boy had done that day._ Is he asleep yet?_ He wondered, watching the fireflies dart through the open stone windows. _I bet not._

  
The boy had spent the day climbing on houses and climbing on trees and catching frogs of this kind and another and eating apples and throwing apples and wondering if he could throw an apple to the moon and catch it when it fell back down. He was full of questions and couldn’t quite keep them all locked inside his head as his mother had asked him. He just wondered too much. _Why do the frogs run from me? Is the grass bothered when I step on it? What if I were a frog? What color is happiness? Are the flowers happy?_ The questions came in a steady supply that ran through his mouth like an open net of butterflies. He often didn’t stop long enough to hear the answer, pleased enough to let the questions fly into the wind and chase them.

  
But for now, he slept. His mother crept down the stairs and carefully extracted his boots from his small feet, tucking his small frame under the covers like any practiced mother would. She sat on the edge of his bed and sighed, watching the way his breath fluttered the dirty blonde hair that hid his face from her. He wouldn’t sit still long enough for her to cut it, much to his father’s chagrin. _The boy looks wild_, he had said. She wouldn’t tell him that it pleased her. It suited him, for he was a wild thing. Her wild thing. She couldn’t help but smile.

  
The boy let out a staggering sigh and his eyes fluttered beneath his fragile lids.

A hint of azure peaked its way underneath them and he whispered, “Mama? Are you there?”

She shushed him and lay beside him on his minuscule cot, curling her body around him. He filled in the space perfectly. I made you, she thought, this where you are meant to be. They lay that way for a while, two sets of sapphires, one slowly blinking their way back to sleep. She hummed him a lullaby and the rain slowed its pace.

  
“Mama,” he whispered.

  
“Go to sleep, my wild thing,” she answered.

  
“Okay”

  
And he did.

\---

He woke to the sound of hooves of the bridge outside his home. In one fluid motion he was up the stairs, bouncing his mother back into the waking world.

  
“He’s home! He’s home!,” he shouted, climbing his way into the windowsill to peak outside.

  
She was confused, partially due to her rude awakening, but mostly because she knew he wouldn’t be home. Not yet. He was Captain of the Guard, he would not be returning so soon. She rose from the bed and pulled the boy into her arms, giving him a squeeze before quickly sliding her nimble fingers under his arms, resulting in the sound that filled her soul, that pure, pillowy giggle that made his little nose crinkle with delight.

  
“Let’s go see who it is, my love” she cooed at him, letting him scamper to the ground.

He was out the door before she had descended the second step of their loft.

  
“Link, my boy!” bellowed a deep voice from below. Not his voice, she noted. But a familiar one.

  
“Sir Otto!,” Link cried, “What are you doing here! Where’s father? Is he in trouble? Am I in trouble? Can I play with your sword?” he was practically buzzing around the knight like an insect.

The older knight let out a resonant laugh and ruffled the boys hair, “I would have to answer to your father if let you stab yourself with my sword, my boy, and I’ll tell you a secret,” he said, leaning down low to the boy whose eyes had dilated at the mention of forbidden information, “he scares me”

Link giggled, “Nothing scares a knight!”

Otto smiled lovingly at the boy, “If only that were true,” he smiled sadly, “Ah, Ellia, a pleasure to see you”

Ellia stood in the open doorway of their home, leaned against the aging wood, watching Link run circles around the knight, her husband’s most trusted friend. He would have sent him personally. She tried to push the dread that had began to seep into her heart back into whatever forsaken place it had sprouted from, but was unable to keep the tension out of her voice.

“Why have you come?”

Otto shifted uncomfortably where he stood and let out a slow sigh before answering, “He’s asked me to come for you. Both of you. He wants you to come to the castle”

Ellia was thankful her son had decided to chase a dragonfly to the pond instead of eavesdrop on what he assumed to be another tiresome adult conversation. He asked about going to the castle constantly. He wanted to see the giant structure, no doubt much larger in his mind. He wanted to see his father battle with sharp weapons. He wanted to climb the tall towers and run the cobblestone streets. But she knew better than to trap him there. He was a child of the earth and did not belong behind stone walls.

“With urgency? Why not send a letter? Why send you?” she replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m afraid there’s been...a prophecy. One of the Sheikah elders. Claimed it came in a dream. The Queen has been instructed to start training the Princess in the sealing magic...the calam-”

“What does this have to do with us? My son?” she interjected, feeling the dread sink it’s claws into the tender parts of her heart, shredding the delicate tissue.

“There’s to be a hero,” Otto said quietly, watching Link climb the apple tree near the pond, outstretching little fingers to their farthest length to reach the ripe fruit.

“They are starting to search the land for a young boy, around Link’s age, to begin training to see if any show sign of - “

“No” she declared with her voice and her body as every muscle tensed in her mild frame. Not her son. Not her boy. He would grow up wild and free, taming wild horses and leaping from cliff tops. He would not give his life to the throne as his father had. It was the one continuous argument she had with him. Lennon, the boy’s father. The day he was born she looked him in the eyes and promised him the world. She would not let the monarchy steal his spirit. Not as it had stripped his father of his.

“Ellia, I’m not to take no for an answer. I’ve brought an extra horse. We leave in the morning,” Otto declared, returning to his knightly stature.

Tears burned in the edges of her eyes but she would be damned before she allowed him to see them. She turned her back to him and slammed the cottage door, sliding down it’s length before burying her face in her hands.

_I won’t let them take you from me. I’m so sorry, my son._

Heavy tears sluggishly found their way around the edges of her face as she listened through the door while Sir Otto played with Link, indulging him in exaggerated stories of knightly valor and bravery. She didn’t need to see him to know the look in his eyes. The awe. The deep pools of blue absorbing every moment. Soaking in his surroundings endlessly as if he could never have enough of it. Life. He was full of it. So full in every way. He was wild and reckless, but he was also gentle and sickeningly sweet.

_I’ll die before they strip your of your kindness, she thought._

She wiped her eyes and allowed herself a deep, filing breath before opening the door.

“Link!” she called, painting the words thick with playfulness for the boy so he wouldn’t hear her sadness, “pack your things, we’re going to the castle!”

She was sure he responded to her, he was always such a polite boy, but she didn’t hear it before he bolted past her into the cottage. She watched as he packed his childhood into a small bag, eager for a future he didn’t understand.


	2. At Night

Ellia huddled by the small campfire and watched her son as he tiptoed through the high grass of their campsite. Sir Otto was seated nearby on a fallen log, also transfixed by the boy’s innocence. 

“Are you sure he’s Lennon’s son?” he asked, hoping she would catch the teasing undertones, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man smile, but somehow his son comes out...well…”

Link tripped over his own feet, as if on cue, and began to giggle at himself, the sound as soft as gossamer feathers in the wind. 

“Got you!” he chuckled as he cupped the delicate insect that had landed on his cheek against the softness of his skin. 

“Splendid?” Ellia asked taking in the sight of the small boy laying on his back, watching the insect crawl along the edges of his hands, giggling at the sensation, “I pray he stays that way” 

She looked at Otto then, clad in Hyrule’s colors, sword gallantly strapped at his side. He shifted uneasily in his seat and let out a sigh. 

“It’s not forever, you know,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him, “Every boy must be tested. Maybe they will see his gentleness and let him go home. But you have to try”

“No,” she replied flatly, “They will see his recklessness and say it is courage. They will see his energy and try to harness it. They will see his kindness and mistake it for duty. They will take his childhood from him. He is Lennon’s son. They will look at him and see his father. He will not escape and you know it” 

He took her words and worked them in his mind. She was right, but he didn’t need to tell her that. She didn’t need his approval or his confirmation. 

“He is still so little, Ellia” he finally replied, “even if he turns out to be a natural with swordplay, he cannot join the guard at five years old, you may enjoy him still...and there’s no time like the present”

Link joined them at the campfire, dropping hard onto the ground beside his mother as if his legs simply gave out beneath him. After shuffling around a bit, he looked up quickly between the two adults. _They seem a little sad_, he thought. But he didn't have time to be sad. He was hungry. 

“Can we eat something?” he asked, furrowing his brows in contemplation as he studied his mother's worried face. Maybe she was hungry too. 

At that, her face lit up with a mischievous grin as she grabbed her chin between her thumb and index finger as if in deep thought, “Hmm…” she mumbled, then looked to Otto, “Sir Otto, could you cook us up some of that _ special _ stew you said you could make? You know...the one with Bokoblin guts?”

“Certainly, my lady!” Otto beamed, never one to miss out on teasing the boy, “I hear it is Link’s very favorite! I’ll make him a double portion!”

A look of innocent horror washed over Link’s face as he held back a gag. But his horror slowly turned to curiosity as the questions began to stack high in his mind once again.

“What color is it?! Can I see?! Doesn’t it smell?! Where did you get it? Can I help?” 

Suddenly Otto appeared very dejected as he slumped in his seat, feigning a great weight upon his shoulders. 

“I’ve only just remembered Ellia…” he muttered, loud enough for Link to hear, “I left the Bokoblin guts at our last camp...we’ll have to eat regular meat stew tonight” 

“What a shame,” Ellia huffed, crossing her arms in great dismay.

“Oh,” Link laughed nervously, “I guess that’s okay” 

The two adults shared a wink and laughed. Link joined them. He didn’t know why they were laughing, but he liked to laugh so he joined. He was excited to see his father again. And excited to eat. But mostly excited to see the castle. He wondered if he could climb to the very top of the tallest tower. Surely his mother wouldn’t let him, but maybe she wouldn’t see. He tried to think of ways to be sneaky as he sloppily slurped his stew from the wooden bowl. 

“Will father let me use a sword at the castle?” he asked, food dripping down his chin.

Otto glanced at Ellia, who gave him a small nod of approval.

“Hmm, I think he just might”

“WHAT?!”

A small flock of birds flew off somewhere in the distance at the mighty sound of such a small voice. 

Link had jumped to his feet, letting the rest of his stew fly across the campsite as his bowl took its jarring leap from his lap. He ran over to Otto, “Can I see yours? Please? Please?” 

Otto looked to Ellia who was now standing, a small frown pulling down the features of her soft face, blue eyes cold in the warmth of the fire. 

“No, Link, not tonight. It’s time for bed,” she stated in a tone that all mothers have that means _ do not question me. _

Link let out a struggled groan and balled his fists, “Please!” he tried again, “I never get to hold swords! It’s not fair!” Ellia could see the tears rimming his eyes. He was trying so hard to appear fierce before her, but she saw through him. She always did. 

“I’m not repeating myself”

“Yes, mother”

He turned quickly away from her as he let out an exaggerated sigh, shoulders dropping in defeat. Ellia tried not to let her heart break at his sadness as she readied their bedding in the tent. There would be plenty of time for swordplay in the future. Tonight he could go without. 

Link stared out at Hyrule field in the darkness, watching the fireflies gracefully float across the twilight. He knew he loved his mother very much, but he also knew he really wanted to hold a sword. _I only wanted to hold it_, he thought. _I wouldn’t even play with it. I just want to feel one in my hands_. A rogue tear made its solemn journey down his round cheeks, creeping its way down the collar of his tunic. It made him shiver. 

“Sorry little man,” whispered Otto, “you’ll get to hold one at the castle”

“It’s okay,” he said, “thank you anyway”

Link wiped the trail left by the tear and joined his mother in their tent. She held him close and hummed him gentle lullabies, but they only lulled herself to sleep. Link did not want to sleep that night. He lay and watched little battles on the floor of their tent. Miniature knights leaping from cliffs with great swords in their hands, slaying mighty beasts. He felt an emptiness in his right hand as a cold wind crept under the canvas sheltering them from the night. 

_ Come to me, hero, _the wind said to him. 

He wasn’t sure if he heard it with his mind or with his ears. His imagination was so great he often failed to see the boundaries of where his daydreams ended and reality began. He closed his eyes tight and tried to picture himself as a knight. He wondered what would happen if one fell in a lake. Surely they would drown. What if a fish got stuck in your armor? That would tickle. He tried not to laugh as he almost felt the slimy fish flopping against his chest. 

His mother placed a warm hand on his back and gently pat a soothing rhythm. One, two, three, pause ...one, two, three, pause ...the same rhythm she used to pat on his back as a baby. He drew circles in the dirt with his knuckles. She knew he had trouble sleeping. He always had. But it was in these moments she wished she could still time. To hold him a little deeper, inhale his sweet scent a little longer, memorize his features before they were hardened by sorrow and time. She listened as he hummed his own lullaby and relished the way his voice seemed to vibrate across his body. She dreamed of home. He watched another battle in the dirt as the sun rose steady in the sky.


	3. The Castle

Link thought he’d never seen anything more intimidating than the gray colossus that towered above him. He feared it may come alive and swallow him whole. It’s towers grew up from the earth like great arms ready to swoop him away. Suddenly he missed Hateno and its lolling hills. He missed the apple tree in his front yard. He missed the way his cot smelled after he laid on it in wet clothes. He wanted to eat bread under the stairs and listen to his parents talk of boring things in the middle of the night under the guise of sleep. 

He looked up as they passed the main gate and his ears twitched as the roaring sound of castle life erupted around him. Carts and cuccos and people and  _ so many people.  _ He didn’t know there were so many people in the world. He wondered how many apples it would take to feed all these people. He didn't see any apple trees. He wondered if you stacked all those apples together would it make a pile as tall as the castle? What would happen if you jumped on it? 

“Link?” his mother asked, shaking him free from his reverie, “what do you think?”

He smiled at her. He knew she wanted him to be happy. He wanted her to be happy. He didn't want her to know that he was just a small bit _scared_. Not a lot. Maybe only enough to fill one cup full, he thought. He’s worried he might spill his cup full of scared if he tries too hard to be happy. He thinks about what scared would look like. Probably like spilled ink. He heard the clinking of metal and looked forward for the first time. 

These knights did not look like the knights in his mind. They were much smaller and less metal. He bet they would float if you dropped them in a lake. He wondered if that was a good thing. He didn't wonder long because soon he heard his father’s voice and then there were no more thoughts in his mind, just falling from his horse and then just running until he found him. 

“Daddy!” he yelled, nearly climbing the man like a tree. 

Lennon, dressed in his finest tunic, decorated in sashes, softly picked the boy from the ground and nuzzled him against his one his broad shoulders, sneaking an inhale from the space between them. He smelt of horse and rain and dirt. Of home. Link laid his head on his father's shoulder and suddenly felt very tired. 

“I missed you,” Link whispered. 

“I missed you too,” his father replied. 

Lennon walked with the boy resting against him until he saw her. Dark blonde hair braided to the side, a sternness in her blue eyes that meant trouble later. But not right now. Not in front of everyone. He relished in that, at least. She gently dismounted her horse and walked to him. He looked more steely than the last time she saw him, more than half a year ago. His carried himself as if he felt a great weight upon his shoulders. She glanced at Link snuggled there against him. _That is the weight you should feel, _she thought. Not this. _Not soldiers and castles and running errands for Kings._ But him. Her son. _Their son. _His dark eyes trailed over her body until they found hers. They stared a moment before he raised a hand to cup her cheek. Her eyes softened before she closed them, leaning into him. It was difficult for her to stay angry with him when even just the sight of him made a comforting warmth spread across her chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, so quietly she almost doesn’t hear him. 

“I know”

She embraced him, taking both boys into her arms as if they were one. She laid her head gently upon her son’s suddenly very still back. She let go of Lennon to peak at the boy who had fallen very deeply asleep on his father’s shoulder, which was steadily growing a wet spot around the boy’s open mouth, the one tell he gave when he was truly asleep, not simply closing his eyes for appearances as he lost himself in thought. 

She smiled at him. The way his disheveled hair laid across his face, slightly squashed into his father’s pressed tunic. The way his too big boots barely held onto his ankles as they hung limp from his body. The way his hand clutched at his father as if he were the only thing keeping him from floating away. 

“Did he sleep last night?” his father asked, rubbing circles into Link’s back.

Ellia quietly shook her head and stroked his hair. “He was waiting for you” 

Otto joined the family once more after storing their horses safely at the stable. 

“Looks like you have the magic touch” he joked, lightly prodding Lennon in the ribs, “I didn’t think the boy ever slowed down”

Lennon smiled at his old friend, “Thank you for getting my family safely to the castle. Why don’t you take the evening and spend it with yours” 

Otto quickly bowed and then nodded, “Thank you, Captain” and left the three alone once again. 

“Come, you both need to rest,” he declared as Ellia leaned against him, feeling the same magnetic pull to his comfort that Link had. 

Ellia slipped her hand into his as they made their way through the crowd to his chambers within the castle.  _ How fitting,  _ she thought,  _ the captain so defenseless, both hands full of family.  _

He tried to pretend he didn’t notice. But the thought did cross his mind. 

His castle chambers felt much smaller with his family inside of them. Ellia hadn’t laid eyes on his solitary space in four years. They had agreed to the house in Hateno when Link began walking and it was clear he would need much more space than the castle allowed. Ellia stayed in Hateno with Link while Lennon worked in the castle. He would come home as frequently as was allowable, though recent events had barred him from leaving his post for long stretches of time. It was the longest he had gone without seeing him. His heart ached to think of all the nights he had spent away, but he knew the duality of his duty. Family and crown, forever attempting to rip him in two. 

_ He cannot live here, Lennon. He needs grass and trees and wildlife. He needs to run and be free. Don’t cage him away _ , she remembered telling him. He had begrudgingly agreed. 

Lennon laid the boy down on his bed as gently as he could, careful not to wake him. He lay stretched across the soft blankets, mouth open, body desperately clinging to the rest he had denied it the previous night. He couldn’t make himself leave the doorway. His eyes lingered over the small body in his previously lonely bed. His son. His hair had gotten longer since he had last seen him. He wondered if he could convince him to cut it now that he was at the castle. He doubted it. 

He felt her eyes on his back and turned around, gingerly shutting the bedroom door behind him. 

“He’s grown”

“You haven’t seen him in over 6 months”

“I know, I’m sorry...we’ve been-”

“He asked about you everyday. Every morning. The same question. ‘Is he coming home today?’ Every day the same answer, ‘No’. I thought he would stop asking but he never did. Some nights he would sit and stare out the window waiting to see your horse coming over the bridge. I tried to tell him that you would write before you came. We would know. He seemed convinced you would surprise him. He never sits still, Lennon. Unless he’s waiting for you”

She closed her eyes as tears threatened to escape their confines. She hated that about herself. Any abundance of emotion led her straight to tears. She didn’t want her sadness to wipe away the anger. She wanted him to feel it. 

He felt it. He saw his son in their cottage window, warm breath against the glass. Waiting for a father that never came. His gentle heart never letting go. Never allowing sadness in. He was always so  _ happy.  _

“You’re here now,” was all he could manage. 

She scoffed at him. 

“And why, exactly, is that, Lennon?”

“I had no choice!” his deep voice boomed through the small room. A wooden bowl rattled on shelf near the small oak table. A small boy turned over in his sleep, tucking his hands beneath his head. 

“Based on what, some old Sheikah’s dream?!” she lashed back at him.

It was his turn to scoff. 

“I hardly took you for a skeptic, Ellia”

“I hardly took you for a fool”

They stared at each other from across the room. She was fuming and she didn’t want to be. She wanted this reunion to heal the wounds that had scared over her heart. She loved her son, but she needed  _ him _ . She  _ wanted  _ _him_. Her husband. Her partner. They could hardly stand to separate once they had found their love in one another when they were younger souls, free from duties and time and responsibility. But then he had joined the guard and it took something from him she desperately wanted back. His freedom, his happiness. 

“It’s only a trial. I’ve never let the boy touch a sword. As soon as they see him flail around they will laugh and send him home, I promise”

“Don’t you dare make promises to me, Lennon” 

“I don’t know what you expect me to do. Deny him because he is my son? Because you think he’s better making flower crowns than learning to be knight?”

The slap came quick and honest from the full force of her hand. She could no longer contain the tears that snaked down her hollow cheeks. They were hot and unwanted. She hated them. Right now she hated him and she didn’t want to. She hated herself. 

“Are you mad at me?” came a small voice from behind them both. 

Link stood in the doorway, sleepy eyes damp with sadness. He held the edge of his tunic in both hands. He wouldn’t look at them. He stared at the cracks in the floor. He wondered what it would be like to shrink small enough to fit between them. Would he be lost forever?

“I’m sorry,” he said, running the fabric through his small fingers. 

Lennon felt like a tree rooted to the spot. All he could do was stare at him. His son. Link. He so rarely cried. He forgot the last time he had? When he fell off the roof and broke his leg. When they told him he wouldn’t be able to run around for several weeks until it healed. But he hadn’t been there in over half a year. Perhaps he had cried more since then. Perhaps he had broken his heart enough to let sorrow in. He couldn’t stand the thought. 

Ellia swooped him into her arms and drew circles on his back with her fingertips, shushing him. 

“No darling, we are not mad at you, we’re sorry we woke you,” she apologized, shooting her husband a glare he was certain could wilt plants. 

He rushed over to them and laid his own hand on the boy’s back. Link looked up at him then, blue eyes like two tiny seas. He embraced them both. He wished he could keep them here forever, safe within the confines of his arms. He felt a hand on his own back. Small. Warm. 

_ I love you,  _ whispered the boy.

Lennon was glad in that moment that heartbreak was a silent affair, for the sound his would have made in that moment would have surely roused the whole castle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned on updating weekly, but why not post early.


	4. Swordplay

In that moment where all the boys stood in the training ground, Ellia finally noticed just how small Link was. He was a good head shorter than other boys his age. But what he lacked in height, he seemed to make up for in tenacity, even if others couldn’t see it yet. If Link noticed the difference, he didn’t seem at all aware of it. His focus was fixed on the weapons rack immediately before him, silver swords shimmering in the noon day sun. 

_ Why are they so shiny?  _ He thought.  _ Does the King use one for a mirror? Does the King have a sword?  _ To Link, the King was some mythical giant who never left his castle. He imagined the King to be stuck to his throne, having grown to it like some toy long lost in overgrown weeds.  _ I wonder how many pies the King can eat. I wonder who cooks the King’s pies. I wonder how many berries he’s lost in his beard.  _ He spent a good time imagining what it would be like if the King sprouted a berry bush from a wayward seed stuck in his facial hair. He tried to stifle a giggle, but was unsuccessful. The knight inspecting their line gave him a scowl and a quick knock to the shins. Link thought that was rude. 

“Who let this little ragamuffin in here?” the young knight quipped, “aren’t you supposed to be sitting in your mother’s lap? We’re looking for a hero, not some pint-sized stable boy” 

The boys around him snickered. Link did not think it was funny. He tried to emulate the stern look his father gave him when he climbed to the roof of their house or ate one too many sweets, but the knight saw right through him and let out a hearty laugh, much to the other boys’ delight. 

“Oi, Sir Thomas, you know that one there is the Captain’s son?” jeered another man from behind that Link could not see. 

“Oh, don’t sell me a dog, Varle. Old Lennon’s boy would probably come out punching holes into trees. This little tyke looks like he would be afraid of the wind!” 

Link was not afraid of the wind, he thought. He wished the wind would pick this knight up and toss him over the castle walls. He thought knights were supposed to be brave and polite, like his mother taught him. This knight was more like the sullen old stable man back in Hateno who would swat at him for feeding the horses. He imagined the old stable man swatting at this knight and told his smile to calm down. He wanted it only for himself. 

“I see you have met my son,” came a flat, but formidable voice from behind the knight. 

“Uh, yes, sir, uh, captain...er….” the man faltered at the sound of it. Link had never thought of his father as particularly scary, but the knight acted as if some great beast had appeared before him. Link thought the knight looked like he might be scared of the wind now too. He liked that thought. 

“We better get started,” his father said and Sir Thomas pounced into attention, saluting the captain with a firm, “Yes, sir”

\---

Link found himself in the middle of a sparring circle with a small wooden sword in his hand. He felt his disappointment hanging on him like a wet jacket when they wouldn’t allow him a real sword. He guessed wood would have to do. 

The boy before him was twice his size. He had dirty black hair that stuck to his face in little ringlets and under his long, pointed nose sat an ugly smirk. Link heard the other boys jeer him on. They wanted to see him knocked to the ground. 

“Don’t hurt the boy, Edward” quipped Sir Thomas from the sidelines. 

Edward lunged forward then, swinging his sword in a quick, wide motion in an attempt to knock Link down at the knees. He underestimated how quick the small boy would be. Link swiftly leaped in the air and landed in a crouch below the other boy’s sword. Without thinking, he kicked Edward's exposed ankles, bringing him to the ground. 

Edward was angry now. He surged to his feet and charged again, letting his anger lead his sword. But Link was agile and avoided him at every turn. 

_ It’s like dancing,  _ Link thought. He remembered his mother dancing with him during the autumn festival in Hateno. How her feet turned and her body twirled. He was glad no one was trying to hurt him then.

Edward continued his barrage of attacks until he became a breathless mess of sweat. With one last effort, he threw himself at Link with his sword held high in the air. Link easily slid from his path and watched as the larger boy tumbled to the ground. 

Sir Thomas let out a chuckle. 

“You’re supposed to use your sword, boy, not just hold it!”

He looked down at his hand then. He realized he had just be lugging it around. He wasn’t sure what exactly to do with it. He didn’t get long to ponder the thought before another boy was placed in the ring. Edward sat on the sidelines, eyes hard and cold as he stared at Link. Link thought he looked like a gargoyle and wished he would climb back up the castle walls. 

“Ease into this one, Cedric” called Sir Thomas from the sidelines, “let the boy see what to do with his weapon”

Cedric appeared calm. His bronze hair fluttered slightly in the breeze. He gently folded one hand behind his back and held the sword out and ready with the other. 

Link looked to his father, who nodded at him. He tried to do the same. 

“And, go!” yelled Sir Thomas. 

Cedric approached cautiously and tapped Link’s sword with his own. He could feel the slight vibrations rolling up his arm. He decided he liked it. He hit the boy’s sword back.

“Good!”

They continued this way for a few moments. Cedric advancing and Link hitting back. He liked the way the sword felt in his hand. He imagined it was part of him, attached at the palm like a branch to a tree, as if he had grown it himself. He had an odd feeling as if he had done this before, though he knew he hadn’t. He wasn’t allowed to play with swords. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to feel it. 

“Hey, watch out!”

He shot his eyes back open just in time to see a swift blow about the come down on his head. His body seemed to respond when his mind did not. In a series of movements that left the onlookers in shock, Link managed to evade the blow and charge back with a series of slashes so quick they hardly seemed possible. Cedric landed hard on the ground and Link hovered over him, bringing the blunt end of his sword to rest upon the boy’s throat in a show of victory. 

“Bloody brilliant!” Sir Thomas nearly exploded, “Captain, your boy is a natural! Who taught him to move like that? He’s quick as lightning!” 

Link looked to his father who had been watching the match with all the seriousness of a man in his position. His lips pressed into a thin line as he looked at his son who had yet to break a sweat, despite his exertion. He simply nodded. 

“Let’s continue”

Link didn’t notice as his mother left the audience, gently pushing aside the ever growing crowd of spectators. He didn’t see the way she slid her sleeve across her eyes while she hurried along the castle corridors as he disarmed his next two opponents. 

Link was busy parrying the blow of a much older boy when his mother finally reached the lengths of the dark corridor that led to their room and he had just only won his victory over Sir Thomas when she allowed her grief to overtake her in the middle of their living quarters. A chambermaid thought she heard someone wailing and ran to investigate. But the noise had all but vanished as Ellia buried her face into the soft cotton pillow and cursed the name of every deity she could remember. 

\----

After dusting himself off, Sir Thomas rose to his feet and ran to lift the boy with his wooden sword in the air. 

“Well aren’t you just butter upon bacon, my boy!” 

“Put him down, Sir Thomas”

Sir Thomas immediately replaced the boy to his spot on the ground, raising his arm in a dutiful salute, another pressed, “Yes, sir” falling from his lips. 

“Link, do you remember how to get back to our quarters?” Lennon asked the boy, who was looking up at his father with a look of confusion upon his face. 

“Yes, sir” 

“Hurry along then, and tell your mother to get you something to eat” 

Link stood a moment and tried to decipher the look in his father’s eyes.  _ He doesn’t seem angry with me,  _ he thought.  _ I wonder if he’s mad I beat his friend. Did Sir Thomas try to lose? Is it just a game? Did I lose? Is this a trick? _

“I will not repeat myself”

Link dropped his sword into the ground, causing a puff of dust to rise from the dirt. He had rounded the corner before the last particle had settled back into its newfound place on the Earth. Instead of more corridor, however, he found Edward. He found the very front of Edward with the very front of himself and they both staggered backwards from the force of it. 

“ _ You”  _ Edward let lose a hiss from the back of his throat. 

“I was supposed to show my father that he was wrong, that I  _ am  _ going to be knight, but  _ you  _ had to come along  _ ruin it” _

Link imagined the curls of black hair on his forehead as little serpents, each hissing their accompaniment to his seething words. He thought they might leap off his face and strike at him. He took a step back. 

“I’m sorr-”

Edwards hands were at his throat and the large boy held him in the air for a moment to relish the sight of it, the little fighter struggling in his hands, a strained blush creeping across his pale face. He saw tears forming in Link’s eyes and his hatred turned to a sickly type of enjoyment. 

Link fell hard to the ground and tried to coax the breath back into his lungs, but it left him again as Edwards boots found purchase in the softest part of his stomach. Over and over again. He felt like a piece of dough being kneaded. Edward saved his last kick for the boy’s face, enjoying the strained cry that escaped him as his hands shot to cover his nose. 

“Tell your father and we’ll see just how quick you are when I put a knife to your throat in your sleep” Edward nearly spat as he quickly turned and ran down the corridor. 

Link lay there for a moment. He didn’t want to cry, but his nose was throbbing and he wasn’t sure if he could stand up on own. He felt something warm and pulled back his hands that had been cradling his face. They were slick with blood. He detested the smell of it. He tried to wipe it on his trousers, but his nose seemed to contain an endless supply of the sickly substance. He wondered what his mother would say when she saw him. He began to cry at the thought of her.

He laid in the corridor and cried until a chambermaid stumbled upon him and let out a startled squeak. She gathered his pitiful frame in her arms and rushed him this way and that. She rushed him back into the waning sunlight and back into the training ground where Master Lennon was making hushed conversation with several other knights. 

“Excuse me, sir, forgive me, but I didn’t know where else to take him” she attempted to bow, but the boy in her arms made it difficult. 

“Link?”

Link did not want to look at him so he didn’t. He looked at the ground instead. He watched as a shiny droplet of his blood hit the earth, dulling as it soaked into the dirt. 

“I’ll take him, thank you” 

“Yes, sir” she bowed and rushed back to the castle before anyone noticed her bloodied apron and began to ask her uncomfortable questions. 

Lennon cradled the boy against his chest, not fearful of the bloodstains he would leave. He turned to his company and dismissed them with a nod. He did not have to ask Link what happened because he already knew. He knew what young boys were like. He had been a young boy once, too. Long ago. 

“I’m sorry, Dad” 

Link’s little voice cut through his core like the sharpest blade. He wanted to turn his apology around. He wanted to paint the world with his apologies for his son.  _ I’m sorry I brought you here. I’m sorry I made you fight. I’m sorry that you are gifted for it. I’m sorry for what they will make you do.  _ But he didn’t voice any of it. He only kissed the boy on his warm forehead, trying not to think of the blood smeared there. He knew it would be the first of many wounds. He knew it but he dared not let himself think of it any longer. 

“Hush now, it’s alright. Let’s go clean you up”

Link closed his eyes and leaned his ear into his father’s chest, letting his sound of his heartbeat override his senses. He thought it sounded like the footsteps of a giant. He thought he was high in the air, well above all of Hyrule, far from the reaches of grumpy stablemen and bitter young boys with hard boots. He imagined footsteps so tall that they began to float away. Link too began to float away as his father gently opened their chamber door. 

\-----

Link found himself in a tub of warm water, watching as the last few drops of blood fell from his nose, the little red bulbs dissolving off into lazy spirals before becoming so diluted he couldn’t see them anymore. He found himself unable to say anything as his mother gently poured the water into his disheveled hair. Between the warmth, the pain, and his sadness, he was having a difficult time just staying awake. More than once he found his head tipping to side as his eyelids fell closed. 

“It’s okay, my sweet, you can rest soon,” his mother whispered to him as she delicately cleaned his already bruising abdomen. 

She couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t stand the blood on his face or the way she could tell he had smeared it with his little hands. Little hands that were red and tender from handling a weapon for too long. She couldn’t think of him alone in the hallway, blue eyes clouded with dark, heavy tears. He had been coming to her. She dropped the washcloth and turned from him so he couldn’t see her face as she grimaced at her own thoughts. But he didn’t move, nor did he make a sound as she slid through the washroom doorway to crumble into his father’s arms. 

“I can’t….” she spoke to his chest. 

He pressed a soft kiss into her hair before walking through the doorway. 

Link briefly looked up before aiming his sight back down at the water without comment. His nose was swollen and the tender skin beneath his eyes was already starting to bruise. 

“Is she mad at me?” he said to the water. 

“Why would she be mad at you, son?”

“I don’t know”

“No one is mad at you”

“Okay”

Lennon picked the boy from the water and helped him into his night clothes before cradling him against his chest. 

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course”

That night the three of them slept together in Lennon’s bed, just like they used to. Link curled against his father and Ellia found herself missing his warmth. Lennon reached across the sleeping boy to tuck a strand of her hair back behind her ear. She allowed the sad smile to linger on her face as she held his hand there for just a moment longer. Their eyes told each other what their voices could not. As his parents shared their quiet moment, Link found himself in the middle of a remarkable dream. He dreamt of strange beings in fantastical masks and moons as big as the sky itself and songs that could bend time and there was a girl with green hair and the little round flute that the princess threw at him while she was whisked away by the man on the dark horse. Then there had been the sword that spoke to him, though he couldn’t remember what it had said when he finally woke in the morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people hate the idea of a freakishly strong child, but in my opinion, Link is not an ordinary child. He is the reincarnation of the Hero. Up to this point he just hadn't had an opportunity to show it.   
In my mind, his skill at this age has more to do with background knowledge (from past reincarnations) and speed than anything else. You can't hit something you can't catch, after all.


	5. Daydreams and Nightmares

The magic of childhood is resilience. Though the break in his nose pained him for weeks after the incident, Link seemed to bury the memory away in favor of making new ones. Much to his parents' dismay, he was remarkably good at making memories through  _ mischief.  _ The castle was filled with mystery and Link was determined to meddle in all of it. 

“And you wondered why I asked to move to Hateno,” Ellia exhaled as she watched Lennon apologize for what seemed like the hundredth time that week to the tower guard. Link had attempted to climb the tower  _ again  _ and much like the last time, he had fallen into the Queen’s private gardens. 

“He would climb Death Mountain if we let him,” Lennon sighed, placing the boy down at his feet. 

“Can we?!” 

“No!” they sharply replied at the same time, turning in sync to face the boy who had a comically sheepish look on his face. 

“Okay, sorry”

“Link, we need to return to the barracks. King Rhoam has asked to tour the grounds today. He wants to see the boy who bested half the guard” Lennon tried to hide the pride in his voice as Ellia glared at him. 

“Okay” 

Ellia closed her eyes and allowed herself a deep exhale before attempting to straighten Link’s hair, to no avail. 

“You better get off then,” she sighed, “Best not leave the King waiting”

Lennon pressed a soft kiss on her cheek and he led the boy, hand in hand, back to the barracks. 

\---

Link stood in line beside his father as the giant man they called King came into vision. He was a broad man with wide features. Link wondered if he had ever ridden a horse before. He wanted to see the horse that could carry such a man. He imagined the horse whimpering beneath his extensive frame, legs wobbling as if they were made of jelly. Suddenly the man was before him and Link’s eyes were fixed off into some distant place, images of giant horses dancing across his mind. 

“Did you hear me, boy?” 

“Hmm?”

The King laughed and Link thought he felt the ground shift a little from the loudness of it.

“You remind me of my Zelda, getting lost in your own thoughts,” he said warmly.

“Speaking of which, the Queen did mention stopping by herself…”

“Your highness!”

Link watched as the King whipped around, his focus settling on two figures gliding towards them, back-lit by the lowering sun. One tall, one very small, both very much golden beacons of light. He squinted his eyes to see the Queen and the Princess joining the King, all three turning to stare at  _ him.  _ The Queen had long golden hair that gently swayed in the breeze. She seemed to radiate gentleness, her kind eyes gazing down lovingly at the tiny Princess standing by her side. The Princess, Link thought, was like a little copy of the Queen. She too sported long, flowing strands of gold, but her eyes were not quite as soft. They had a mischievous glint in them that made Link quite nervous, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. 

“Now tell me, are you the one all the boys have been telling me about?” the King returned his attention to now very fidgety Link, who was very pointedly staring at the small figure of the Princess, who was hiding behind her mother’s skirts.

“Mmm, don’t know” was the best he could muster. He heard the girl giggle as she pushed her face further into the rich fabric.

“Link!” his father reprimanded him for his lack of decorum with a quick nudge to his shoulder, “My apologies, your highness, we are still learning proper court etiquette...it’s a work in progress”

“I’m sorry, your highness,” Link mumbled, suddenly feeling dull heat radiate across his cheeks.

“No worries, my boy, let’s leave the etiquette lessons for another time, I have come to see a spar! Do not disappoint me!” he boomed, turning to face the women behind him. 

“Oh Rhoam, surely you don’t mean to have this little thing fighting your guard?” the queen spoke up, aghast at the thought, “he’s barely older than Zelda!”

“Yes, Papa, he is so  _ small _ ,” giggled the Princess, green eyes daring to sneak a glance at the boy. She thought he looked like a puppy with his hair sticking up in odd places and his blue eyes...oh they were so blue, she thought, bluer than a summer sky at noon. 

Link had swiftly ran out of thoughts to distract him, leaving him staring awkwardly at the royal family. 

“Let us hope his swordplay is more engaging than his small talk,” laughed the King, as he whisked his family towards the seating area that had been arranged for them around the sparing circle. 

Lennon coughed and quickly knelt beside his son, “You must be on your best behavior, son. Not everyone gets observed by the entire royal family”

“Yes, father”

“Let’s not keep them waiting then,” Lennon whispered and gave his son a very light, but affectionate pat on the back. Link thought for a moment to ask his father to carry him, but then he remembered he was too grown up for carrying now. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not, but he quickly forgot. 

\---

Link did not disappoint the King, but to his befuddlement, he had seemed to somehow upset the Queen, who quietly whisked the golden haired girl away with whispered promises of stories and fruitcake. This elicited a strange sensation in his heart that he had not quite felt before and was quite puzzled by, so much so that he momentarily stopped his blur of movement long enough for his opponent to knock him to the ground. He lay on his back for just a moment, watching the clouds lazily drift across the blue sky, one of them a similar shape to a lizard. 

“ _ Link!”  _ he father commanded from the sidelines. 

His father’s voice seemed to break him from his daydream and he leapt up, refocusing on his opponent, who took quick notice of the boy’s absent thoughts. The spar lasted only a few moments longer and ended when Link managed to strike the young man to the ground, feigning a lethal strike to his jugular. Link felt something wet on his cheek and instinctively reached for it. He didn’t remember getting hit on the face, but his bloodied hand told him that he had. He stared at the viscous liquid on his hand and wondered what it would look like in large quantities. It made him shudder. He wiped his hand across his trousers and turned to face his father and the King, who were now standing side by side. 

“Excellent work, my boy!” bellowed the King, punctuating his words with his large hands. 

Link bowed and hoped this was appropriate. No one corrected him so he assumed he had done well. 

“Why don’t you run along to the castle kitchens and tell the cooks to fix you something special. Tell them it is the King’s orders.”

“Yes, your majesty!” and he was off, rounding the corner while his words still lingered in the air. 

King Rhoam turned to Lennon and his jovial expression shifted to one Lennon had trouble deciphering. Was it sadness? Fear? A combination of both?

“Do you think the prophet right, Master Lennon? Could the Calamity really return in our lifetime?”

“I wouldn’t presume to know, your highness, though I hope not”

King Rhoam ran an apprehensive hand through his beard.

“He is well adept at swordsmanship. When did you begin teaching him?”

Lennon sighed and looked down at the ground, fearing the direction this would take their conversation. 

“I did not teach him, your highness”

The King turned to him.

“Then who did?”

A heavy silence fell between the men. The King looked expectantly at Lennon who raised his line of vision to his King. After a quick, tense breath, he looked King Rhoam in the eyes. 

“No one. It just seems to come to him. He’s always been an exuberant boy, but I’ve never allowed him around any weaponry for fear he would injure himself. He has a habit of moving before thinking, your highness.”

The King stood in silent repose as he processed Lennon’s words before returning to normal, aristocratic self. 

“I should like to keep him around, Master Lennon. Let him polish his skills. He is to train with the guard, here at the castle, as an honorary member. Hyrule may need use of his abilities one day, I fear” 

“Yes, your highness” 

At that, the King briskly turned and returned to his castle chambers, but not before quietly peering into his wife’s private courtyard. There in the center stood his Queen and the Princess, peacefully praying together as the sunlight seemed to play in their hair. He thought of the boy who possessed more power than he had a natural right to. He thought of an old Sheikah prophet murmuring tales of chaos and destruction before his last, shuddering breath. 

He tried to stop thinking, but the thoughts were persistent and lingered long into the night. 

\---

Link sat in front of his mother with his back to the small fireplace in his own castle chambers. The balmy heat crawled across his body like a comforting hug, but the cloth on his cheek was cold. 

“My sweet boy,” his mother called him and he looked up at her and smiled.

“My brave boy,” she added, cupping his cheeks, one with the cold rag, one with a warm, bare hand. It made him feel a little lopsided. He turned his head into the warmth.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she planted her words right beside his eager ear.

He smiled, “What kind of secret?”

“A secret only for kind little boys and their mothers and no one else”

“Who will you tell then?”

She let out an honest laugh and felt as it eased her wounded heart, if only for a moment. 

“I will tell  _ you _ , you little trickster,” she quipped as she expertly wiggled her fingers beneath his ribs, right to the spot that made him turn into a puddle of giggles. 

“Well what is it!” he chuckled, after regaining his breath.

“You promise not to tell anyone?”

“Promise” he stated, mimicking the way his father stood at attention, putting on his sternest expression as he held a firm salute.

It was her turn to giggle at him, but her face fell as she pulled him into her lap, gently encouraging his head to rest against her collar bone. She allowed her smile to fall away when she was sure he could no longer see her face.

“When you were a baby, I had a dream”

“Was it a scary dream?”

“No, my love, it was a beautiful dream. I was standing in a field of magnificent flowers. They were mostly white, but towards the middle, they were the softest blue, like your eyes,” she smiled down at him and kissed his hair as he twirled a strand of hers in his little hands. 

“And yours” he said.

“And mine”

“But I wasn’t alone on the hill, there was a woman, but she was made completely of light. She shone so bright I could hardly see her at all. She turned to me when she noticed me looking at her and although I couldn’t make out her face, I could tell she was smiling”

“Were you scared of her?”

“No, not at all. When I stood close to her, I could feel her light upon my skin. It calmed me. It felt like peace”

“What does peace feel like?”

“Hmm, like a warm blanket. Or a hug from someone you love. Peace is here, holding you, my love. That is what I felt when I was with her”

She could feel him snuggling into her as she rubbed circles into his back, a motion that always seemed to calm him. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, envisioning the woman again. 

“What did she do?” he whispered.

“She spoke to me. She spoke of you”

“Of me?” his voice was small and feathery. 

“Yes. She told me that when you were born, she gave you some of her light. She told me that is what our world needed. A little more light”

“Do you think she really did it?”

She paused a moment as a single tear hovered on the edge of her cheekbone.

“Yes, I do. You are a light in the darkness, Link. And I will always find you, I promise”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not going anywhere, my sweet, little wild thing,” she shushed him then and felt a tear roll down her cheek. She sang to him. The old lullaby. The one her grandmother sang to her. It was the same lullaby the Queen would sing to the Princess that night as she tucked the golden-haired child into her own slumber. Ellia breathed the words into his hair as his body stilled, the hand that had been twirling her hair going limp against her chest. It was in his smallest tendencies that she found the most love. The way he worried his bottom lip when he was anxious, how he twirled her hair as he fell asleep, the way he tilted his head to the side when he was confused, his subtle shyness around adults despite his exuberance. It was what made him _him. _What made him hers. 

She held him long after he had fallen asleep just to feel him. She studied his hands, dirt under his fingernails as always. They were so little. She tried not to imagine the sword he had held there just hours before. She was still holding him when Lennon appeared in the doorway a few hours later. 

They locked eyes and he understood. He lifted the boy from her arms and smoothly transferred him to the small cot nearby. He lovingly covered him with a soft quilt before placing a feather-light kiss to his cheek and turning to his wife, who was already curled in their bed. He curled around her and she rolled over to face him, burying her face beneath his in a desperate attempt for comfort. This is how he slept. This is how the dream found him.

\---

_ It was dark. Too dark. Darker than any darkness he had experienced before. He could sense his own body, but he could not feel it. He was stuck. Encapsulated in some unknown substance. He could feel it now, the burning. Slowly, a sickly red hue illuminated the substance and he felt its resentment. Somewhere in the distance came a scream.  _

_ “Help!”  _

_ He tried to find the source of the noise but the twilight seemed never-ending.  _

_ Beneath him, the ground quaked and a deafening crack echoed across the open space as the earth underneath him began to rise. He rose higher and higher until he found himself breaking through the ground of the castle. Walls crumbled around him, crashing and colliding into fragments that rolled and tumbled around him. He heard them then. The people, the screaming. So many screams that they seemed to morph into one cacophonous sound. The smell of death crept up his nose, causing him to gag. He managed to pull his arms free as the smell overcame him, causing him to vomit.  _

_ A guttural moan caused him to look forward. A massive dark beast that appear singed and blighted by its own existence, dripping with the substance that was threatening to burn him alive.  _

_ “Daddy!”  _

_ He whipped his head to the direction of the noise and saw his son, clothes burned and torn to shreds, blood smeared across his face.  _

_ “Daddy!” _

_ “Link!” he tried to call, but he found he had no voice.  _

_ Link began to cry as his eyes darted frantically around the ruins.  _

_ “Daddy, help me!” _ _   
_

_ A large section of the castle wall collapsed right above where Link was standing, threatening to crush him. Lennon felt his entire body lurch forward, but the substance had reclaimed his upper portions, smothering him. He was trying to scream. He was silent.  _

_ Link somehow evaded most of the larger chunks, but was knocked to the ground by the impact. When he stood, one of his arms hung lower than the other, having been dislocated by the fall. He cried harder. Lennon fought desperately against the substance, but it was fueled by his despair.  _

_ I need to get to him. I need to get to him. I need to get to him. I need to get to him.  _

_ Link tried to run forward but tripped in the rubble and fell again.  _

_ Lennon’s screams stay trapped at his throat, choking him. The substance,the malice, climbed even higher.  _

_ The beast noticed the boy and began to descend upon him. Link looked up in horror and the wails that escaped his body cut through Lennon like a blade. My son, my only son. I have failed you.  _

_ “Daddy!” he screamed as the monster came closer, opening its frightful jaws.  _

\---

“Daddy?” 

Lennon’s eyes shot open and he flew from the bed in a state of blind panic. He burst through the doorway of their bedroom and fell to his knees when he found the cot empty. It was real. He had failed. He heard a small cry and turned back around to the doorway. There stood Link, hair disheveled from sleep, eyes rimmed in heavy tears. He was wringing his hands together. He was scared. He was scared of _him_. 

“You were yelling at me. Am I in trouble?”

He ran towards the boy and nearly knocked him over as he enveloped him in a crushing embrace.

“No, no, no, you’re not in trouble. I’m sorry I woke you. I was having a bad dream”

“Okay” Link managed to squeak through his tears, unconvinced he wasn’t somehow at fault for his father's upset. He laid his head on his father's shoulder and listened as his heart slowly managed to mitigate the pace at which it had escalated to. 

Throughout the whole ordeal, Ellia had laid in silence. Somehow, deep within her soul, she understood what had happened to her husband. She understood the reason for his sudden break in composure, for she felt it too. The darkness. The smoke, the malice, the murkiness, the  _ evil  _ that had began searching for the one thing meant to destroy it. The light. Link. Her son. For years she had tried to convince herself that her dream was simply that - an illusion of her mind. But here in the dimly lit chambers of their castle lodgings, with her steadfast husband reduced to a heaping mess cradled around their child on the floor, she allowed the one thought she had pushed away to finally pry open the door to her heart, crushing it in ways she couldn't comprehend. 

Lennon looked up at her from the floor. 

“It’s true, isn't it?” 

She answered with her silence as he crawled into the bed, the now sleeping boy nestled between them. 

“It cannot be true”

“It is”

“How long have you known?”

“Since he was born”

“_How_?” his voice was barely audible, his eyes pleading as they begged her for answers. 

“I carried him inside me for nine months. He entered this world through me. The night he was born, the Goddess came to me in a dream. Told me he is the light of Hyrule. At the time, I took it as a projection of my maternal feelings. Of course he is the light. He is our light. _My light_…”

Her voice began to falter as she caressed Link’s cheek. She noticed his cheeks were wet from tears. They hadn’t noticed he had been crying. He'd been doing more of that lately.

“Don’t let them take him from me, Lennon” she choked on the words and she finally let them escape her mouth. She hadn’t allowed herself to speak them out of fear they would become truth. 

“He is ours. He will stay with us”

“Do you promise me?”

“You told me not to make anymore promises”

She looked at him then and traced the line of his jaw with quiet hands. 

“I’ll allow you this one. If you promise to keep it. 

“Then you shall have it”

For once, Link slept while his parents remained awake, both watching him sleep as if at any moment someone would come and whisk him away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always seen Link and Zelda as tragic characters. Sorry for the sadness ):


	6. To Witness

Lennon kept true to his word to the King and Link attended the daily training of the guard, who remained skeptical of his place among them, save for Sir Thomas, of course. Link, on the other hand, was delighted. Not only did he love the opportunity to handle a multitude of weapons, more than anything he loved that he got to go to work with his father. Every morning he would scarf his breakfast down with such gusto that on several occasions he had choked, causing his mother to fret over him in new ways. Ellia had also noticed that his sleep was slowly dwindling, his sleepless nights steadily growing in number and frequency. He had always had a tendency to skip a night or two a week, only briefly dozing in and out long enough to rejuvenate his ever energetic body, but now he seemed to require even less. He was nothing but a well mannered child, even beneath his meddlesome and wild spirit that occasionally landed him in trouble, so he always stayed in bed. But she could always tell when he was awake. Some nights she laid in bed and watched him weave silent stories with his hands, mouthing the words to himself in silence, lost in some other world. But as soon as the sun began to awaken from its own slumber, he would dart alive and begin his day. 

"Link, slow down! You're going to choke!"

"I'm ready to go!"

"Your father is still dressing!"

"Well, he needs to hurry up!"

Ellia deeply sighed and ran a hand across her face. She didn't know what to do with herself in his absence during the day. She had already fixed all the holes in his clothes. Already read the books on Lennon's desk. Already written letters to friends in Hateno. Some part of her ached at the thought that he seemed to have no reservations about leaving _her_ alone all day in favor of spending time with Lennon. _I shouldn't be jealous of him, _she thought, _He is his father. _But the feelings stayed and she tried her best to tuck them away in some far away place in the back of her mind. She had had almost six long years of time where it was only him and only her, with Lennon only making his brief appearances. Her heart was truly happy to see the way Link followed his every footstep, but that didn't stop her from missing him.

Lennon eventually made himself ready to leave and with a gentle kiss, he bid her goodbye.

"Don't let him hurt himself" she smiled at him.

"I'll do my best" 

Link always beat him out the door. When the door shut, Ellia was left with just her thoughts again. She wished they would leave her alone.

\---

"Your son is to train with us?" one of the knights had bravely asked.

"King's orders" was the short reply he received.

They didn't ask after that. They didn't have to. They noticed the skilled way in which the boy handled the sword and realized the warrior he would become. Some of them resented him, others found it humorous, others paid him no mind at all. None of them thought he was a hero. That was an old tale, whether some old Sheikah had tried to resurrect it or not. The knights would not be easily swayed by fairy tale. Besides the occasional spar, Link didn't pay them much mind either. He was busy swinging his weapon, imagining tearing through monster camps like a valiant hero, cutting and slashing his way to victory with his wooden training sword. He imagined himself dressed in royal regalia, the King offering his great congratulations, rewarding him with mountains of sweets. Sometimes he imagined that the little Princess would be there too, clapping her tiny hands and smiling at him with her green eyes like little emeralds. _She thinks I'm small_, he remembered, letting the thought bother him more than it should have. He wondered if the Princess had ever held a sword before. He didn't think Princesses were allowed to hold swords. He remembered when he wasn't allowed to play with swords. He felt proud of himself. He wanted to ask her to play with him, but he wasn't sure if she was allowed to play either. _She's like a poor little bird, _he thought, _trapped in its little cage. _He was glad to be free. He didn't want to be trapped anywhere. 

Three weeks into Link's training, the castle blacksmith bumbled into the training yard holding a loosely wrapped package in his hands. Lennon smiled at the man and took it from him, pushing a hefty bag of rupees into the man's eager hands. 

"Link!" he boomed across the training ground and Link turned on his heels and sped towards him like a cat to an open door. 

"I have something for you, but you have to promise me something before I give it to you," Lennon told the boy, whose eyes were dilated so large that his blue had almost disappeared. Link didn't get presents very often and his birthday wasn't for almost three more months. He imagined it must be something very special and tried to tell his heart to calm itself, but it tried to crawl up his throat and leap out despite his best efforts. 

"Yes, father!"

Lennon smiled and gingerly unwrapped the lose cloth, revealing a very small blade. Link froze in admiration and looked up at his father who nodded at him, extending it towards the stunned boy in a gesture of offering. 

"Whose is it?" Link asked.

Lennon laughed, "It's yours!" 

Link gasped, "_mine?" _he nearly whispered. 

"Yes. Every good knight has his own sword. I had this one made for you. But Link," he said, meeting the boys wide eyes, "You must be careful. Knights are to be brave, yes, but first they are responsible and loyal. You may only hold this sword if you swear to never use it as a toy or treat it without respect, do you understand?"

Link stared at the small weapon in his father's hands and was afraid to touch it. He looked up at his father and then back to the sword, his mind seemingly empty of thoughts. 

"Link?" Lennon asked him, slightly confused at the boy's silence. When he commissioned the sword he had imagined Link climbing all over him with excitement, dangerously waving it around, threatening to injure himself with it. But Link did none of the sort. He seemed stunned into silence. 

"Hmm?"

"Do you want it?"

Link looked at his father and back to the blade again.

"Yes"

"And you promise to care for it? To behave with the virtue of a knight?"

Link narrowed his eyebrows as he did when he was in deep thought before answering, "Yes"

Gently he took the sword from his father's hands and instantly it felt right. The length and weight were perfectly suited to him. Slowly a smile spread across his face. He slipped the blade carefully into the small decorated scabbard that it had come in and wrapped his arms around his father's legs.

"_Thank you" _he whispered into his father's knees. 

"You're welcome, son" Lennon said, patting the boy on the back. 

As Link practiced with his new sword, Lennon took a parchment from a messenger boy's hands. The parchment carried the royal seal, having come directly from King Rhoam himself. Hesitantly he opened it and a small smile grew across his face as he read the contents. 

\----

Link watched with glee as his parents strapped supplies to horses near the castle gates. _ An adventure, _ he thought _ . _ He had heard tales of the Zora, but never had he laid his eyes upon them. In his mind, they were fish in people’s clothing, wearing giant glass bowls of water on their heads to keep from drying out. He wondered what they ate. _ Do they eat each other? _ He didn’t understand why the king would send _ people _to the fish kingdom. He especially didn’t understand what business people would have with fish other than catching them, but he was eager for an adventure all the same. 

“Do the Zora talk like us?” he asked his father, who was busy giving commands to the other guardsmen who were joining them on the trip. 

“We will stay a fortnight, longer if necessary, though King Rhoam promised delegations to be swift” his father described to the young man standing at attention in front of him, “The Zora are typically more than welcoming to Hylians, so I expect to return with good tidings for the King. New avenues for trade should bode well for him”

“Do the Zora drink water? Do fish get thirsty?” Link asked, pulling at his father’s sleeve. 

“Master Lennon, we are well stocked on provisions and are ready at your command” the young knight bowed, sneaking a smirk at the excited young boy who was practically spinning in circles around his father. 

“If a Zora eats a fish, do they also eat other Zora?” Link wondered aloud again. He flattened his mouth in a long line and a worried look shot across his face._ Do they eat people? _

“Tell everyone to meet at the north gate, we will depart within the hour” Lennon commanded. The young knight bowed again and left to inform the rest of the travelling party. Lennon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Dad?”

“Son, you will be travelling with us as an honorary member of the guard. That means you must learn the honor and respect of a soldier. You cannot interrupt conversation, particularly mine. I am the Captain.”

“But you’re my Dad!”

Lennon sighed and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“All in good time, my son. Do you know who is coming with us on our journey?”

“Sir Otto?!” Link nearly squealed.

“No, he is staying to do my job in my absence”

“Sir Thomas?” he asked, cocking his head to one side like a puppy.

Lennon nodded with a smile. 

“Yes”

Link’s face lit up with a smile as he began to search the crowd for the young knight who had quickly befriended the boy after his defeat in the sparring ring. Sir Thomas was so impressed with his skills that any embarrassment he should have felt was quickly overshadowed with warmth and admiration. He had occasionally started to join in on training Link in the finer arts of the sword and Link participated in his lessons with great enthusiasm. The two quickly built a friendship on silliness and bad jokes. 

“Ah, Sir Thomas!” Lennon yelled across the courtyard, “come here!”

Sir Thomas, who had been attempting to speak to the attractive young lady who sold flowers near the north gate, turned to Lennon with a slight blush across his cheeks. He quickly made his way through the crowd at the direct command and Link practically climbed the young knight like a tree.

“I have told Link here that he can ride with you to Zora’s Domain. Do take good care of him. He tends to wander.”

Link squealed in delight as Sir Thomas squeaked out a strained, “Yes, sir” as little arms wrapped around his throat. 

_ It’s going to be a long journey _thought Sir Thomas. 

\---

Link leapt off the horse he had been sharing with Sir Thomas, much to Sir Thomas’ horror and began running alongside the travelling party. 

“Hey, wait up little man!” 

But Link was too lost in thought to hear it. He saw the rolling hills as a vast ocean and himself as a Zora, gliding over the currents, leaping through the air, and crashing back into the rolling froth. He imagined underwater cities where jellyfish lolled through the city streets like fat alley cats, wrapping their slender tentacles around stray pieces of food. He closed his eyes and imagined a current picking him up and washing him over the majestic city, only waking from his daydream when he tripped over a rock and tumbled down a hill. 

Ellia watched him from her own stead. He tumbled down the soft grass like an apple freshly fell from the tree. He laughed himself upright and tried to dust the debris from his wrinkled clothing, but failed to tend to the brambles that had found a home in his unruly hair. She half wondered if any creatures had thought to make their nests there. Surely they would find it most hospitable. She allowed herself a smile. Link saw her smiling and ran up to her. 

“How much longer?” he asked, breathless.

“We should arrive tomorrow, my love, why don’t you ride with me for a while? Let’s give Sir Thomas a break”

Ellia outstretched a hand and pulled him up on the horse, nestling him in front. She turned to Sir Thomas behind her and gave him a knowing look. He answered with a grateful nod and let out a sigh of relief. Link was all but an easygoing travel companion. Sitting for long stretches of time was, unfortunately, not a part of his gifted repertoire. He was fidgety and restless and often leapt off the horse without warning, leaving the rider to deal with the ramifications of the agitated equine. Lennon, stoic as he was, simply wished to ruffle the knight’s feathers a bit by appointing him as Link’s watchman during the trip. He had to humble the young knight somehow. Not being able to keep up with Link would provide the other men with many opportunities to make sport of the poor knight in the future. Sir Thomas, who felt every inch of pressure that came along with watching after the Captain’s son, had sat in strained apprehension the entire trip and it was taking its toll. He was determined to collapse into a dreamless sleep the moment they made camp. 

Link leaned back against his mother and watched the orange hues of the setting sun paint the landscape in sepia tones. He loved the way the branches of the trees darkened and outstretched across the sky like the twisted arms of some great creature buried beneath the earth. He imagined himself leaping into action, arching his sword and slicing through the gangling limbs that gnarled around him. 

“What you are thinking about?” his mother asked him, taking a curious peak at his face, which had gone quite still. 

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking about?” 

“Oh. Slaying monsters”

“Oh” she sighed. 

Ellia tried not to imagine her son slaying monsters, but images of him wielding a sword were determined to stay in the forefront of her mind. His skills were inconceivable to her. He had always had a knack for physicality. He had walked very early, months before his first birthday. Climbing came soon after. He had chased a lizard to their rooftop and fallen off when he was three, resulting in a broken leg and a very sad little boy who was unable to run for weeks. How he had managed to scale the slick exterior of their home had mystified her until he climbed it again as soon as his leg was healed. He lifted his agile body up the walls as if it were made for him to do so. As soon as he was mobile he was _ everywhere. _His fingers seemed to reach for every object in his vicinity, aching to touch and explore every surface. Behind his eyes she could see the endless turning of his thoughts, spilling over with inquiry and wonder at every moment. He wanted to know everything, he wanted to see everything, he wanted to do everything. 

But how he came to possess the skills to wield a sword still evaded her. The moment he first held one in his hand at the castle, he seemed to know exactly what to do with it. Almost as if he had done it before, though she knew he hadn’t. She and Lennon had strictly forbade him from weapons for fear of what he might do with them, given his rambunctious nature. She then thought of the Goddess from her long ago dream and the melancholy it gave her ached in her bones. 

_ He is the light _, she had said to her. 

She refused to believe he was anyone’s light but hers. To Ellia, the ancient tales of the Princess and the Hero were fairy tales. Stories told to restless children before bedtime. Every little boy in the Kingdom thought of themselves as the hero and every little girl fancied themselves the Princess. None of them fully understanding the weight of those roles. She wanted none of it for Link. When she imagined his future, she saw him climbing mountains, discovering distance lands, falling in love, and chasing his own ornery children off his own rooftop. 

She closed her eyes and offered a silent prayer to the Goddess as Link relaxed into her chest, slowly blinking the reflection of the sunset away from his eyes, no doubt lost in his own fantasy. Nothing stilled the boy like his own imagination, which occasionally took so much of his concentration that he forgot his penchant for never stopping.

_ Please, be kind to him. Let him have his life. Please, do not take it from him. I could not bear it. If he is the light, let him shine for me. If someone must be chosen, choose someone else. _

A gentle gust of wind brushed past her face, lazily lifting the stray blonde strands of her hair that had fallen from the bun she fastened on top of her head. If one listened close enough, they might have mistaken the soothing sound as a serene whisper, though the words came at such a delicate frequency that they melted into the landscape and rolled off into the hills. 

\---

The group had made camp in the middle of the Lanaryu wetlands, making use of what little dry land they could find there. Link helped his mother put together their small tent as his father did his rounds. The sun had, at that point, meandered its way behind the mountains and the landscape was coated in darkness once again. 

A handful of soldiers flocked around a flickering campfire, skewering meat and vegetables on long sticks for their supper. Link sat among them, eyeing their provisions like a hungry dog. One of the men begrudgingly gave into his longing glances and handed his over, much to Link’s delight. While Link unceremoniously tore the meat from the stick with his sharp canines, the soldiers began to pass around heavy ale and unstrap their duty, if only for the night. 

Between them they passed tales of battles, long lost lovers, and brushes with death, until finally they settled upon their favorite subject of debate: the calamity. 

“‘Tis but a story they tell children to scare them”

“I heard its a smoke monster”

“Well I think it’s a load of shit - oh sorry little man” 

Link had blushed at that. He liked that the men allowed him to sit among them, but despite his usual chatty demeanor, he found that he clammed up somewhat when surrounded by his father’s men. Sitting among battled hardened soldiers, he felt very small, so small that at times he felt as if he wasn’t really there among them at all, but instead a far off observer. That was, until they addressed him directly, sending him crashing back into reality. He could only weakly smile in response. 

“It’s just an embellishment of history, the calamity is just one man. One man against an army! And it’s our army, boys!” The slightly inebriated men let out a few slurred cheers at that one. 

Lennon walked up to the group and took his spot beside Link, who shuffled close to his father’s comforting presence. 

“Demise takes many forms. History tells us that much. It is true he was once a man. Though I am not wise enough to presume to know what form he may take next” Lennon’s authoritative voice softened as the men around him settled into somber silence. 

“Do you really think someone will find it?” one the soldiers questioned. 

“Find what?” Link asked, his interest peaked.

Lennon looked down at the boy. He was filthy, covered in dust from the road, juices from dinner staining his round cheeks, re-hydrating the dirt that clung there. Link looked at his father and Lennon thought if he stared long enough, he may dive into the pools of his eyes and never return. 

“The Master Sword” Sir Thomas spoke up from across the fire. 

Link turned away from his father to stare at the knight, who had ambled up to the group after waking from the impromptu nap he had taken while leaned against a tree. 

“The Master Sword?” Link voice dripped with awe and curiosity, “what’s that?”

“The Sword that Seals the Darkness” 

“_ The Darkness _?” Link whispered.

“It is that blade, wielded by the chosen Hero, and the powers of the Princess that ultimately seal the calamity away,” Sir Thomas spoke off into the distance hills as if some far away creatures were holding his audience.

“Who chooses the hero?” Link asked, eyes wide as the moon.

“The Goddess” 

“Oh”

Link watched as a group of beetles scurried over his worn boots. He tried to imagine them on their own adventure to some far away land, but instead, the ghosts of heroes and princesses twirled in his head. He felt dizzy.

“Link?” he heard his mother behind him, “Come now, son, we must rest for tomorrow”

“But I’m not tired!” he protested. 

“Link” her voice was final and he knew not to argue.

Lennon’s gaze held its fixed point at the center of the flames, licking the crisp night air with thin, nimble wisps of heat. He did not acknowledge as Link sighed and stood from his seat beside him, shuffling away in defeat at his mother’s words. He wondered where the Master Sword was now. _ Tucked deep away in some forbidden corner of the world, _the thought to himself. When he closed his eyes he could still see his son, half swallowed in malice, muffled screams for a father long gone desperately seeking purchase in the air which lay heavy and burdened with death. He let out a shuddering breath and stood. 

“I will take watch tonight. Everyone get some rest, we leave at first light” 

With that the group disbanded and Lennon walked to the perimeter of the camp, lowering himself against a tree, listening as the frogs skipped their songs across the swamp. 

Link lay on the hard ground beside his mother who was idly twirling strands of his hair. He poked one hand out from beneath his covers and began to draw in the dirt he found there. He swirled his little digits in gentle circles, admiring the way the fine substance collected in little mounds as he moved through it. Quietly he mapped his way through Hyrule on his little earthen map, building mountain ranges by gathering all his fingers together in a scooping motion and then snaking a finger between them to create rivers and streams. 

“Go to sleep” his mother whispered.

“Okay” 

But he didn’t. He stayed awake long after he felt his mother’s embrace slack around him, her breathing deep and even. He listened to the crickets and frogs playfully singing to one another in the night. He imagined their back and forth conversations of _ Please quit eating us _ and _ But what else is there to eat? _He wondered if a cricket and frog ever thought about being friends. He wondered if animals had friends. Dogs liked people. Horses liked people. He liked horses. But could he befriend a frog? He thought he might ought to try. 

Before he could finalize his amphibious plan, he noticed an eerie stillness. The frogs had stilled their croaking, the crickets their wings. Even the birds seemed to settle deeper into their nests in the heavy stillness that befell the camp. Then Link heard something strange. It was the wind, but not like a normal breeze. It was small and concentrated with great force, seemingly in one area very close to where he lay. Shortly after, the unmistakable sound of very sharp metal cutting through the air. 

Then nothing was still anymore. There was yelling and canvas ripping and someone screaming his name. His body was lifted into the air and it took him a moment to realize it was his mother who held him, crushing him against her chest. Her heavy heartbeat in his ears sounded like a herd of horses running away. They were running away too. But to where?

He wiggled his head free of her grasp to see chaos in the camp. Bodies pushing against bodies, blades against blades. He saw people that did not belong. People dressed in skintight red suits with no faces. _ Their swords are curvy _ he thought, watching as one of them brought down a particularly vicious blow against Sir Thomas, who parried it back with a force Link had not seen from the man. Suddenly the red man was bleeding and he staggered towards where Link and his mother had cowered near the camp, Ellia reluctant to be far from Lennon. 

The man’s face was covered in a sleek white mask, the image of an eye emblazoned across it in angry red paint. He was attempting to hold his midsection together where Sir Thomas had carved him almost in two. Upon seeing Link huddled against his mother, he ripped off his mask, revealing red eyes brimmed in hostility. He fell to his knees before he could reach them. Ellia pulled Link further into herself, shielding his little body as much as she could with her own.

“Stay away from us!”

“Ganon will rise again” he seethed through his teeth before letting out a sputtering cough, “Darkness will rise, we will eradicate the light!”

“Don’t come any closer!”

Link was frozen in fear. He gripped his mother’s arms so tightly she thought his nails would break her skin. He had stopped breathing when he saw the blood churn out of the man’s abdomen, pushing past his fingers like a coil of angry snakes with every desperate beat of the dying man’s heart. 

The man fell forward but fixed his sights directly at Link, who met his eyes. 

“_ The Hero will fall, the kingdom will-” _

His speech was cut short by a sword piercing him between his shoulder blades. Blood fell from the corners of his mouth and his head hit the ground like a dropped sack of produce. All Link could do was stare. 

Lennon dropped his sword and ran to them, taking them into a deep embrace. 

“Are you alright?” he breathed into Ellia’s shoulder and she began to sob. 

Link was flattened between them but he did not move. Slowly he allowed air back into his lungs, but his heart was strangely empty. 

“Link?” his mother asked him. 

He looked past her at the moon, which was half shrouded in darkness. 

“...Link?” she asked again, shaking him gently. 

He furrowed his eyebrows slightly but did not speak. His mind was vacant. His body felt numb. For a moment he forgot where he was until he managed to refocus his gaze on his mother’s strained face. 

“Are you okay?” his mother’s voice broke lazed the fog slowly wrapping around his mind.

He nodded, but the glaze across his eyes told a different story. 

Ellia brushed a hand across his cheek and he shivered. 

“Yeah” he whispered, but he lied. 

She turned her head to Lennon then, a question in her eyes. 

_ Is he okay? _

She had never seen him so _ lifeless. _He sat on the grass, gaze set firmly at some unfixed point in the distance, hands idly twisting wet blades of grass. 

“Come here, little one” Lennon said, gently picking him off the ground. 

Link melted into his father’s touch and closed his eyes as they walked back towards the camp. Lennon transferred the limp boy to his mother who shielded him from the rest of the carnage that lay among them. Together they huddled in their tent, patched together with some old tarps, and pretended they were somewhere else while Lennon tended to his men and dragged the broken bodies of the Yiga soldiers off into the distance, out of sight. Link saw the corner of his sword's scabbard tucked beneath a ripped piece of canvas and turned away from it. He didn't feel like he deserved it anymore.

That night Link dreamt of the man dying. He dreamt of the man’s words that he knew were meant for him. He saw the man’s face so many times that it became his own._ His _ blood pooling in the grass. _ His _ stomach open to the air. He could smell it. Like something rotten, metallic. He woke up to the taste of vomit in his mouth and quickly spewed the contents of his stomach across their tent. 

Ellia was wrapped around him before he knew she was there, shushing him and cradling him as his fear finally found him. He cried harder than he’d ever cried before and though Ellia tried, she could not burden that pain for him. She could only rock him, helpless, as the sun began it’s slow ascent back to its place in the sky. She welcomed it. 


	7. The Accident

Link was quiet the rest of the journey and the worry that sat in the pit of Ellia’s stomach threatened to tear her apart. Although he had spent the remainder of the night crying, he had yet to speak of what he had seen. She had always tried to shield him from death. Both her and Lennon’s parents had died before his birth and Link had never asked about why he didn’t have grandparents so she had never had to explain it to him. Though he knew of death and the mechanics of it, he had never been forced to process the concept of it beyond just accepting it as a fact of life. Now, perched in front of her on their horse as they crossed the long bridge to Zora’s Domain, he seemed to be processing it. And he was processing it alone, much to her dismay.

“Are you okay? You’ve been awfully quiet” she asked him.

“I’m okay” he softly replied.

“It’s okay to talk to me about it, you know” 

“About what?”

“About what happened”

“Oh”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she gently prodded him.

He replied with a small shake of his head, so subtle she almost missed it. 

“Well if you do, please tell me, okay?”

“Okay, Mama” his voice was small and she could tell that he was already drifting off back into his imagination, though this time it seemed to be more a coping mechanism than a quirk. She worried he would get lost within himself if he stayed gone too long. He wondered if the horses knew there was water under the bridge instead of land. Both of them looked up as they passed the archway into the Domain and marveled at the beauty that surrounded them.

Zora’s Domain was like walking into another world. Balanced high above the water, the elegant archways made of luminous stone glistened in the sunlight. Curved walkways looped around the central area, which hosted a remarkable fountain. Zoras of all colors and sizes elegantly strolled along the looping paths, pausing to amiably greet the group of Hylians. 

A short, forest green Zora with long flaps dangling on either side of his head approached the front of the group. 

“Ah, you must be Master Lennon,” the Zora spoke with elegant cadence. “Welcome to the Domain. I am Muzu, advisor to the King. We will stable your horses and you will find lodgings this way” he pointed with an outstretched fin, “please, get yourselves settled. King Dorephan would like to begin negotiations at your earliest convenience”

“Thank you, Muzu. I must admit we did encounter some trouble on the journey here. If it pleases Your Majesty, I should like to speak with him this evening to give me some time to settle a few things” Lennon replied with his own air of confidence. 

“Is there anything we can assist you with?” Muzu replied.

“We do have a few in need of a healer, if you could spare one” 

“Certainly. Send them with me and I will see to it that they are cared for,” Muzu said. 

“I would greatly appreciate it, Muzu, and please, let us know if there is anything we can assist you with during our stay as well” Lennon replied. 

“We shall see, now come, let us tend to your wounded” he said, waving a fin. 

The group had been lucky not to see any fatalities during the ambush, but Sir Thomas had taken a nasty blow across the chest and a few other men suffered deep gashes and bruises. The Yiga group had been small and appeared under-trained, but they were still vicious and fought with hate.The wounded men bustled along after the Zora towards the healer as the rest of the group followed Lennon to their lodgings towards the rear of the domain. 

Link had unapologetically been staring at the Zora during the entire conversation. The Zora were a lot more Hylian in shape than he had anticipated and a lot more Hylian in spirit as well. He was slightly disappointed the Domain wasn’t an underwater city, though he had wondered how they would have stayed there if it was. Once the Zora and some of the wounded men had departed, he found himself looking down upon some Zoran children would had surrounded his mother’s horse. Some of them had never seen a child Hylian before. It was more common for them to see delegates from the castle than it was to see a child. He was just as strange to them as they were to him. 

“Are you a little boy?” one of them asked. 

“How old are you?”

“Is that your mom?”

“Do you like to eat crabs?”

“Do you even know how to swim?”

They buzzed around him. 

Link’s eyes darted from face to face, taking in their strange features. He liked their little eyes and the tail that seemed to grow from their heads. He subconsciously rubbed the back of his own head, half expecting to find a tail of his own growing there. 

He didn’t answer them, instead he turned into his mother, feeling a bit overwhelmed. Ellia didn’t quite know what to do with this version of Link. She was used to holding back his reigns so he didn’t fly off into space, not this reserved shell of a boy that sat before her who refused to speak. It was carving away at her heart to not see his smile. She was determined for him to find it again.

“It is rude not to reply when someone speaks to you, Link” she told him gently, careful not to sound too harsh.

“I can swim” he said softly.

“Then come swim with us!” they all cheered in unison, eager to see how his little arms kept him afloat. 

“Okay” he said, turning to his mother for approval. She smiled and nodded at him. He climbed off the horse and stood awkwardly among them before they rushed him away. 

It was hard to let him out of her sight, especially after the previous night’s events, but she knew he needed a distraction. The Yiga did not typically wander near the Domain and the Zora were a vigilant race, so she tried to calm her fears as he rounded the corner out of sight. 

\---

“What is your name?” a Zoran child with white coloring down his middle asked, “I’m Rivan, and that is Bazz!” he excitedly pointed a fin at his friend who was beaming beside him. 

Link couldn’t help but share their enthusiasm.

“I’m Link” he smiled.

“Link! Link! Let's go swimming!” they blurted out, taking him by the hand and pulling him towards the water. 

Though Link had found that he was naturally very talented at most things, swimming  seemed to evade him. No matter how diligently he paddled his feet or twirled his arms, it seemed to completely drain him of energy. He found himself stuck in a game he liked to call  _ Am I drowning or swimming? _

That’s where he found himself as the two Zoran children swam around him in graceful laps. He was kicking with just enough force to keep his face above water, but not hard enough to keep it there permanently. He intermittently ducked beneath the surface. He liked the way the sounds changed as his ears filled with water. He did not like the way the water snaked into his mouth causing him to cough and choke. He gasped the next time he bobbed above the surface and as the water drained from his ears, he heard the sound of giggling. 

“I thought you said you could swim!”

“He doesn’t even have fins!”

Link wasn’t sure if he was angry or if he was dying, but he knew it wasn’t a particularly pleasant feeling either way. 

“Oh, you leave him alone!” came a harmonious, but commanding voice from the shore, “He’s just a little Hylian! They do not spend all day in the water like us!” 

The Zoran boys’ giggling stopped abruptly and Link turned to see who had come to his aid. Standing on the bank of the river was a beautiful young Zora, her garnet skin glistening in the sunshine. Her eyes were warm and kind as she looked upon Link paddling through the water with genuine sympathy. 

“S-s-sorry, Princess,” stammered Rivan, “We were just playing”

“Let me teach you, little Hylian” 

She gracefully slid into the water and over to Link who stared at her.

“There are two princesses?!” Link exclaimed. He suddenly thought of the tiny golden princess and wondered if she liked to swim too. He wondered if she ever got to swim with Zoras or if she was always stuck in the castle. He questioned whether or not she had ever actually been swimming before. Surely there was nowhere in the castle to swim and he had never heard of Princess’ that  _ left  _ their castles. He wasn’t sure why it made him sad to think of it.

“That’s Princess Mipha!” Bazz nearly yelled, bringing him back to the present.

Mipha chuckled.

“Would you like me to teach you to swim?” she asked Link.

“Yes, please” he replied. 

And she did. They spent the rest of the day wading through the calm waters,  with Mipha instructing Link on the proper way to support his body in the water. She would giggle at his every clumsy movement and swiftly rescue him anytime he slipped beneath the surface. After a few hours, thoughts of the Yiga attack had meandered their way to some dark, secluded corner of his mind, having been replaced with images of the gleeful Zora leaping and splashing around him and their inside jokes that he did not understand but laughed at just for the sake of laughing. 

“Can I show you something, Link?” Mipha asked with a smile.

“Of course!” Link replied with a grin of his own. 

Mipha turned her back to him in the water, “Climb on!”

Link stayed where he was, quietly treading water as he contemplated her words.  _ Climb on what?  _

As if able to read his mind, Mipha giggled, “Climb on my back, silly!”

“Oh” 

Link felt uncomfortable as he climbed onto Mipha’s back. Her skin was cold and smooth against his and reminded him of the fish he would catch for dinner back at Hateno; scaly and slippery, though her skin was sleeker and less abrasive. Suddenly he imagined the process of preparing a fish for dinner, but he threw that thought away as quickly as it floated into his consciousness.  _ You’re not supposed to think about eating your friends,  _ he scolded himself internally. He really hoped Mipha couldn’t actually read his mind. That would be troublesome. 

When he had secured his grip around her neck she blurted out an energetic, “hold on!” and took off through the water faster than Link had ever anticipated. He almost slipped off her back more than once, but was able to hold himself steady. All the training with Sir Thomas had begun to develop the muscles in his arms and he found he was much stronger than he had been before. Mipha slid through the water with a graceful elegance that was unrivaled. Link could hardly contain the squeals of excitement that flew from his mouth like a startled flock of birds as they whipped back and forth in the water. 

“Get ready!” she yelled through the sound of the water crashing against their bodies.

She leaped high in the air and for a moment Link was weightless and breathless, suspended high above the river. His mind was blissfully empty of thought as he marveled at the beautiful sights of the domain before him, which was now bathed in the soft glow of evening. But reality and gravity found him soon enough and the sudden jolt of it made him release his grip on Mipha’s neck. Much to Mipha’s terror, she realized she had misjudged the jump and watched helplessly as Link was tossed like dirty laundry to the shallower part of the river. He landed with a crunch on his side and let out a pitiful yelp when he made contact with the riverbed beneath him. 

She was by his side before he could process what had happened. 

“Please forgive me, Link!” she nearly sobbed, “We were supposed to land in the deeper water! I am so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Link said while standing up in the water.

He slowly stood in the shallows, his waterlogged tunic clinging to his slender frame, slightly pulled up on one side to reveal a nasty scrape to his abdomen that was sure to leave deep bruises. Mipha nearly wept at the sight of it. 

“Oh, Link! You’re hurt!”

Link looked down at himself with a curious expression. He hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh, it’s okay. It doesn’t hurt,” he tried to console her. 

“Please, let me help you!” she begged him as they made their way to the riverbank. 

Link’s stomach made a noise of protest. It had been far too long since his last meal and he was deeply curious what a race of fish people would eat. He would gladly take another tumble in the river if meant he could eat something. 

“I promise it doesn’t hurt,” he told her, offering her a small smile. He was well accustomed to scrapes and bruises. He was constantly injuring himself in some form or another and had long since learned not to fret over it. 

But Mipha would hear nothing of it. She took him by the arm and forced him to sit on the ground, lifting up his shirt to examine the wound again. He was puzzled as to what she planned to do with him, but silently agreed. She was a princess, after all. He wondered if he should have been bowing and calling her “your highness” like the King. His eyebrows came together in a look of concern as the Zora princess laid her cold fins upon his injury. 

A gentle blue light blossomed from her fingertips and caressed his injured skin with utmost gentleness. He felt warm and light and safe as it crawled across his skin, seemingly erasing the angry red that had grown there. His eyes dilated and his mouth fell open in a display of pure amazement at the sight of it. 

“ _ Wow!”  _ h e shouted as he stared at her hands, “How did you do that?! Are you magic? Are you a fairy? Can you teach me?!” 

Mipha looked to him in amusement as more questions fell from his open mouth. 

“My father calls it ‘Mipha’s Grace’ it is my blessing” 

Link’s smile was so wide it threatened to leap from his face altogether. He had never seen magic before. He had heard that Hyrule was once full of magic. The old ladies in Hateno would tell him as much as they filled his hands with sweets and his mind with stories after running small errands for them. They told him of instruments that could move your body hundreds of miles by just playing a simple song and of giant talking trees that lived in the secret woods where the mist would whisk you away if you made a wrong turn. He had always wanted to believe them, but they were just stories, much like the stories his mother would sometimes tell him before bed. He could hardly believe his eyes as he watched and  _ felt _ the magic upon his body in that moment.  _ Perhaps the old ladies were right _ he pondered,  _ Maybe there is still magic in Hyrule _ . At the conclusion of that thought, he made a promise to himself to find it. 

When she was done, he examined himself with great enthusiasm.

“Look! It’s all gone!” he said, twisting his body to get a better view. 

“It is my pleasure” Mipha replied, offering him a small bow.

“Thank you, um, your highness?” Link suddenly remembered his manners and fumbled his words as he tried to find the appropriate phrase to address her. He didn’t want his father to scold him for his lack of decorum again. 

“Oh, please don’t. I’m just Mipha!” she chuckled. 

“But you’re a princess!” 

“And now we are friends! Friends call each other by names, not titles” 

“Oh okay” Link replied, “Thank you, Mipha”

“You’re welcome, Link” she beamed at him as they walked together back to the Domain. 

\---

The pair parted ways when they reached the center of the magnificent city and Mipha had to report back to her father. He didn’t like her staying out too long without checking in and they had been gone for quite some time. It wasn’t until Link was alone that he realized he had no idea where his mother was. He stood motionless in the middle of the walkway as busy Zoras pushed past him - scurrying about in their business. No one noticed the frantic way his eyes darted back and forth as he tried to find a familiar shape or the way his chest began to tighten until he felt like he could hardly breath at all. He started squeezing his little hands together so tightly he could feel his flexible joints bending backwards under the strain. 

He didn’t understand what was causing his distress and that distressed him even more. The world around him seemed to all start blending together like a painting dropped in water, every Zora that walked by smearing the landscape in its wake, melting into the menagerie of colors and shapes that started to lose their meaning all around him. He was lost on some other planet where nothing was familiar and everything felt threatening even though he knew very well that it wasn’t. 

“Link?” Sir Thomas had spotted him standing awkwardly in the crowd as he left the healer. He was wearing a thin cotton shirt over his now tightly bandaged chest. The Yiga’s sickle had left an ugly crescent shaped ripple that curved from the middle of his breastbone to just under his left rib, but miraculously it appeared to only be a surface wound. He would live to fight another day, it seemed.

Link’s roaming eyes zeroed in on the familiar voice and he moved so fast in its direction that he seemed to briefly disappear all together. When he reached his destination, he wrapped his arms around Sir Thomas’ legs, gripping them so tightly that it threatened to knock the poor man over. 

“Woah, little guy!” Sir Thomas laughed, “What’s the rush!”

When Link did not respond, Sir Thomas knelt down to take a look at his face. Link pushed his eyebrows together and flattened his mouth in an attempt to hide the panic he knew was painted across his features. Now he felt embarrassed and did not want the brave knight to see the way he cried about just being  _ lost.  _ Link wondered if he would ever be as courageous as Sir Thomas or if he would always be slight and weak. He knew he was more proficient with a sword than any other boy his age and could move so quickly that he could best even well trained adults in swordplay, but he also knew that he had stood and stared and did  _ nothing  _ as the Yiga man had threatened to kill his mother. He was little and timid and useless and now he was upset over something so trivial as not knowing where his mother was. His heart hurt like a rolled ankle, sharp at first, leaving a dull soreness that left him feeling heavy and tired. 

“Hey now, what’s wrong?” Sir Thomas took a peek at the sad blue eyes that were meticulously surveying the ground below them. 

“Is this about…oh…hey, would you walk with me?” 

Sir Thomas took the melancholy child by the hand as he began a slow stroll across one of the many winding walkways that snaked their way through Zora’s Domain. The sun was beginning to set in earnest now, but the luminous stone of the walkways lit their journey in a soft blue hue. Link felt as if they could really be underwater and just hadn’t realized it yet. He looked out across the scenery and half imagined a whale swimming through the air. He wanted it to make him feel better, but it didn’t. 

“I’m so sorry that you had to see all of that, Link”

“See what?” he looked up at the knight, but Sir Thomas’ deep browns were fixed on some point far off in the distance. 

“You are too young to have seen death like that. But that’s what it means to be a knight, Link. It’s not all shiny armor and pomp and ceremony. You have to be prepared at any moment that someone may appear that wants to take your life from you, even if just for the sake of taking it and nothing else. Then you have to be prepared to take theirs in exchange for keeping your own”

“But you are strong” Link mumbled. 

“I was lucky,” Sir Thomas correctly, “I just happened to dodge at the right time. I may not be so lucky next time”

“I’m sorry” Link said, watching the way the cerulean stones tucked beneath his feet as he shuffled them. 

Sir Thomas stopped and looked down at him now, “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I didn’t help you” Link’s voice was small and barely lifted over a hushed whisper. 

“Help me? Link, you are a child! Just because you are incredibly talented at swinging a sword does  _ not  _ make you ready to use one deliberately. I would have been mad if you had tried to help me!”

“Really?” Link met his eyes now and saw just a hint of the mischievousness that he had come to love in Sir Thomas. They were really quite alike, the pair of them. Always acting without thinking and letting their words land them in trouble. 

“Yes, really! You think I want those nasty Yiga to know I let a little runt like you knock me around?!” he laughed and ruffled the boys hair. 

“I did beat you though,” Link replied, cocking one eyebrow as a smile threatened to sneak across his face. 

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Let’s go find your mother or your old man and get something to eat. I’m starving, what about you?”

“I could eat a Zora”

Sir Thomas’ laughter leapt from the grand walkway and drifted over the water below as he and the little knight, who was now feeling much improved, decided to find out just what exactly Zoras’ liked to eat afterall.

\---

Link spent his days in the Zora Domain bouncing between playing with the rowdy children, adventuring with Mipha, and amazing the Zoran guards with his weaponry skills. 

“Where did you find this little tadpole? He’s remarkable!” one of them exclaimed as he brushed himself off from where Link had knocked him backwards. One moment he had been questioning whether tales of the tiny child’s aptitude had been greatly exaggerated and the next he found himself dueling with him just to see for himself, dodging attacks that came with a speed and strength that were both remarkable and bewildering to see attached to such a small figure. 

“He is a bricky little fellow, isn’t he?” Sir Thomas laughed, “Just picked it right up like he’d been doing it for years. It’s amazing. Never seen anything like it!”

Link blushed and gently laid the spear he had borrowed down on the ground. He liked that he was good at something, but found the admiration uncomfortable. He would rather be off climbing the steep cliffs and sliding down the dewy hills than fighting. After all, he had never actually  _ fought _ anybody. He had only ever pretended. 

“Link, you better scurry off and find Ellia, she’ll have my head if you miss lunch again,” Sir Thomas said.

Link never had to be told twice to find a meal. Between eating and climbing, he could hardly pick a favorite. He dashed off across the promenade and found his mother leaned over a large bowl that was settled atop a smoldering fire. 

“Just in time, my sweet! Come! I need your help!” she beamed at him. They had now spent over two months in the Domain, much longer than anticipated, but she had welcomed it, if only because of Link. Link loved it there. Though he still suffered the occasional nightmare, he had seemed to bounce back into his usual delightful self quick enough. She could hardly keep track of him with how busy he was. He darted from one end of the kingdom to the next like a blur of pure excitement. It was a whole new world for him to see. A world miles away from the castle, from the King, from prophecy. She embraced it all with a full heart. 

Link smiled as he peeked into the cooking pot. The smell of salted fish and cream wafted up at him, the pleasant steam brushing across his now pink cheeks with a lazy gentleness. He closed his eyes and breathed deeper. It only made him hungrier. 

“Is it done?” he asked.

Ellia laughed at him and handled him some vegetables, “Patience, son. I need you to help me chop these. A skilled warrior like you should have no trouble wielding a measly paring knife, right?”

“Of course not!”

“Then by all means, let’s begin!”

They spent the early afternoon chopping vegetables and watching as they simmered in the bubbling soup. Suddenly, Ellia pulled Link into her lap and wrapped her arms fiercely around him.

“Moooom!” he whined and squirmed like a fish caught in a net, trying playfully to escape her grip, “Let go!”

“Never!” 

She buried her face in the crook of his neck and began to blow raspberries where she knew he was most sensitive. He tried his hardest to hold back the laughter, but it quickly overtook him. When Link laughed, it was a whole body experience. He would scrunch his features and pull his limbs into his middle, vibrating delightfully with each giggle. She ate it up. They squabbled for a few blissful moments as Ellia determined to commit their happiness to memory.

“Stop!” he laughed as he pushed away from her, but she only held him tighter. 

“Oh, I’m just trying to soak you in before you turn into a Zora!” 

“What?!” 

“Oh, you didn’t know? The water in Zora’s Domain is magic! Anyone who spends  too much time swimming here may possibly turn into a Zora themselves!”

Link’s face lit up in amazement but quickly fell as his skepticism took over, “You’re telling a story!” 

“I am not!” she said as she slapped one hand across her chest as if to convey deep hurt. 

“Yes you are!” 

Ellia turned to glance at a Zoran woman behind her who was tending the counter of the inn. The lovely young Zora with crimson skin joined them at the cooking pot and grinned as Ellia snuck in a playful wink. 

“I cannot believe you did not know, Linny!” she beamed, “It is common knowledge around here, after all” 

Link rolled his eyes at the nickname she had taken to calling him. 

“Just last year we had a young trader who came to sell us goat butter from across Hyrule. He made it his custom to complete a lap around the bottom of the Domain after every sale. One day he went down for his swim and came up as a Zora himself!” 

Link gasped and looked at the two women who were doing their best to hide their smiles. 

“Did he change back?” he asked, eyes wide at the realization that  _ he  _ had been doing a lot of swimming himself. He looked down at his hands, wiggling his fingers to make sure he still could. 

“Sadly, I do not know. He took off swimming up the waterfall and we never saw him again” the Zora sadly exclaimed, “I really do miss that goat butter”.

Link looked between both women with incredulous eyes, but in the end he chose to believe them. Given the choice between reality and mystery, Link would always chose mystery. 

“Link! Link!” he heard a voice behind him and turned around to see Bazz flying towards them as if in a state of great urgency. 

“Come on! Come play with us! We’re going on an adventure!” 

“But I didn’t get to eat yet!”

Bazz groaned and put his hands on his hips, “You’re always eating!’

“Am not!”

“Am too!”

Ellia handed Link a bowl of steaming soup and he plopped down on the ground where he stood, definitely slurping the still very hot liquid while Bazz stood impatiently before him. 

“Link! It’s still hot!” his mother tried to warn him, but he had already finished his portion and had stood to run off with Bazz.  
  
“Hey! Where are you going!” she called after him.

“See you later!”

Before she could protest he had turned the corner with Bazz. She sighed and picked up  his bowl from the ground where he had tossed it in his hurry. She briefly wished she could harness just a fraction of the energy he seemed to store in his tiny body.  _ I could probably save the whole world _ , she laughed to herself as she began tidying the mess he left in his wake. 

\---

Link and Bazz passed the grand main chamber in such a hurry that they did not notice the hushed voices that had began to drift from deep inside. 

“Is it true, Master Lennon? Have they truly prophesied the return of Ganon?”

Lennon stood before the massive Zoran King who towered over every other individual in the room. His stature was so great that he nearly touched the ceiling with his head. His form seemed more akin to a whale than the rest of the sleek Zora, but it gave him such a commanding presence that Lennon always found himself quite nervous to speak with him. Today was no exception. 

“It was a Sheikah elder, Your Highness. He claimed to have seen the Calamity in a vision. King Rhoam seems to have found it compelling enough to begin having Hyrule’s princess train in the sealing magic, though I have not heard if they have been successful in their endeavors or not”

“Hmm” the great King let out a contemplative noise that reverberated across the room. 

“There has been a dramatic increase in dark activity across the realm. Even we have not  not been immune. One of our own scouting parties was attacked just before you arrived. That was why we were unsurprised to hear of the troubles you encountered on your journey here. Remind me, Master Lennon, for I have a tendency to forget Hylian History, but what all entails with the return of Ganon?”

“Historically, Ganon’s incarnations appear in an attempt from Demise to shroud the Kingdom in darkness and despair. The Princess who carries the blood of the Goddess Hylia and the Champion of Farore, the Goddess of Courage, will rise to defeat him, sealing him away. Or so they say” Lennon explained. 

“So you have this Princess,” King Dorephan pondered aloud, “but what of the Champion? Has one such as he appeared in our age?”

Lennon briefly thought of Link, face flushed with exertion after knocking down some of his best men in training. He thought of Ellia’s dream. His own nightmares.  _ He is the light _ , Ellia had told him the figure shrouded in light had said. Was it truly the Goddess who had come to her? He would not share this with the Zoran King. He would not speak life into the words. 

“I’m afraid not”  
  
“King Rhoam has requested you stay with us for an additional few months. He is sending more men from your guard to train with our renowned forces. It appears he wishes to be prepared for something, at least” King Dorephan said. 

“It does appear so, your Highness. Thank you for your hospitality thus far”

“The pleasure is all mine, besides, your little one has brought great joy to my sweet Mipha. She rambles about him constantly, always with a smile on her beautiful face. Anything that brings joy to Mipha also brings joy to me” King Dorephan beamed as he spoke of Mipha, his whole body seeming to perk up at the mere mention of her name. 

“I do hope she shares some of her harmonious nature with him, he tends to be a bit wild, but I am delighted to see him make a friend. He had a...difficult time processing the Yiga attack. I am forever grateful she has returned his happiness to him, Your Highness. For that, I cannot thank you enough,” Lennon said. 

“Mipha brings happiness to us all, my friend” King Dorephan said with great gusto and Lennon could not help but agree. 

\---  
  
Link scurried up the cliffs at the rear of the Domain like a hurried lizard. He was jealous that he was unable to simply swim up the waterfall like his friends. They didn’t have to worry about climbing back up each time, they simply sprang up in the air after their great ascent and waited on the bank of the river while he made his slow climb up the cliffs. They flew so effortlessly up the strong stream of water that more than once Link had wondered if he imagined it all. But he hadn’t. They had managed to swim up and jump down the waterfall a good handful of times before Link finally managed to swing over the top of the cliff face. 

“About time, slow poke!” Bazz ribbed him. 

“You’re just a showoff!” Link frowned, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, “What did you want to show me anyway?”

Bazz and Rivan shared a devious look with one another before turning to face Link. 

“We wanted to see if you could swim down the waterfall”

Link stared at the two of them and then looked at the waterfall. He couldn’t tell if they were joking or not. He had never even seen a waterfall before coming to the Zoran land, much less ever  _ jumped from one _ . He imagined himself with great flowing fins like a regal Zora, gracefully diving into the water below with perfect form. Then he looked down at himself.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” he stammered. 

“We do it all the time! You’re just scared!” 

“I am not!” Link held his hands in fists by his side and pushed his eyebrows together, anger painting his face. 

“Yes you are!” the Zoran boys chimed in together. 

He suddenly wished that he had asked if he could play with Mipha instead of the boys. They were fun, but Mipha seemed to have a wisdom that they did not.  _ She would never ask me to jump off a cliff _ , he thought angrily. But Mipha was not there and Link was certainly  _ not  _ scared and maybe he really could jump off the waterfall and be fine. He had learned that he was often quite skilled at things he had never tried, after all. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…

“...okay” he said and they cheered at the sound of it. 

Bazz and Rivan bounded into the water and Link followed behind. The current of the river and the pull of the waterfall combined to create a robust force that wrapped around Link’s body with a strength he had not anticipated. Although Mipha had improved his swimming skills dramatically, he found he was not prepared for swimming in such extreme conditions. He felt like a rag doll as he thrashed about in the water. All at once, he was nearing the crest of the waterfall and he had decided he had changed his mind. 

“Bazz!” he choked out through the water that spilled over into his mouth, “I don’t want to! Please help me out!”

But Bazz was already diving effortlessly through the waves, Rivan following close behind as always. 

Panic found him like a frightened animal gripping its claws into his chest. He tried with all of his might to paddle towards the riverbank, but he soon found himself momentarily in free-fall as his body slid over the crest and began the long descent down to the water below. The frothy water enveloped him as tumbled down, his senses abruptly overloaded. Everything was blurry and wet and  _ loud.  _ He never imagined water could be so loud. 

Link met the base of the waterfall with such a force that all of the air was pushed from his already struggling lungs. The water barreled into his body like great arms pushing him deeper and deeper into the water below. His head met the rocks lining the bottom of the small lake with a sickening crunch and everything went black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger. I'll update soon. (:
> 
> Also, I've always found it humorous that Link tires so quickly while swimming in Breath of the Wild. I used to swim all around Lake Hylia in Ocarina of Time. That's why Link isn't a great swimmer in this story.


	8. Recovery

Bazz and Rivan looked around for their friend, but all they saw was the waterfall casually churning away as always. 

“Where did he go?” Rivan asked.

“I don’t know”

“He went down, didn’t he?”

“Yeah! I saw him!”

“Do you think he-”

Realization seemed to hit them at the same time as they turned to each other, eyes going wider than dinner plates.

“HELP!”

“Someone help!”

The boys' desperate calls for help echoed through the Domain and soon caught the attention of many Zora, including Ellia and the kind Zora woman at the inn, Kodah. Bazz’s father, who had been busy stocking supplies at his shop heard the cries of his son and flew down the ladder to investigate as Ellia and Kodah leaned against the railing to take a look for themselves. Ellia immediately noticed Link was not among them and her heart flew to her throat, threatening to climb out all together. 

“Link?!” she shrieked, her voice carrying across the lake. 

“Come on, let’s go see what’s happening,” Kodah said, placing a hand on Ellia’s back, already sensing the direness of the situation.

“Why isn’t he with them? He was with them this morning! Kodah! What happened?! Where is he?” Ellia was frantic at this point.

“I don’t know, let’s go down and see,” Kodah steadied her voice, offering a sense a calm for the woman who was very quickly losing all sense of composure. 

Ellia nearly fell down the ladder in her haste and landed on the small platform below just in time to see Bazz’s father emerge from the lake, holding something in his arms. 

It took her a moment to realize what is was. Link lay across the Zora’s arms completely lifeless, bright red blood staining the fair blonde wisps that clung to the back of his neck. He had lost one of his boots in his fall and one of his arms dangled listlessly, slightly swaying with the motion of being carried through the water. 

The scream that escaped from Ellia’s mouth was so fierce that Bazz and Rivan began to cry, shocked at the intensity of it. 

“Oh, Ellia…” Kodah cried, attempting to place an arm around her friend, only to have it violently swatted away. 

_ “Nooooo!” _ she howled, falling to her knees, her hands shooting to the sides of her own head, pulling her hair so tightly she threatened to rip it from its roots, though she did not feel the pain of it over the agony that was her heart shattering in her chest, lacerating her from the inside. 

Bazz’s father placed Link on the platform and looked at Ellia.

“I’m so sorry...he was under for so long…”

“NO!” Ellia screamed, “You have to do something! We have to do  _ something!”  _

Link was deathly pale, his head having lolled to one side, lips tinged in violet. His long hair was plastered to his blanched skin in intricate ringlets and curls. Ellia pulled him into her body and sobbed so deeply that she lost herself in it, the world around her completely falling apart. There was nothing anymore. No Zora. No Domain. No birdsongs or gentle breezes. There was only him. And there was only her.  _ Now there is only me,  _ her mind tried to tell her, but she shoved it away.  _ There is no me without him.  _ The onlookers looked on helplessly as she rocked him and whispered promises of love and healing to his unhearing ears.

\---

_ Link was confused when he opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered, he was falling off a waterfall. Now he was in a peculiar place. If you could even call it a place at all. As far as he could see there was ...nothing. Just darkness. And beyond that, more darkness. He felt as if he was standing in a night sky devoid of stars. He wondered how he could see himself. He stretched his hands out before him and they were still there, illuminated by some unknown source. He began to walk forward. Under his feet was a delicate layer of what he assumed was water. He saw a shaky version of himself reflected across the surface. He was completely dry and that confused him even more.  _ Shouldn’t I be wet?  _ He thought.  _

_ He walked and walked until a shape began to take form in front of him and the exquisite sound of music flocked to his ears. He could make out the shape of woman sitting with her back facing him on what appeared to be a fallen log. Her golden hair hung from her head in thick curtains and strangely seemed to be glowing. _

_ “Hello, Little Hero,” she spoke, continuing the gentle music she was playing on the small instrument that sat in her lap, “You are not meant to be here”  _

_ “Little Hero?” Link asked, wondering if she thought he was someone else. She hadn’t even turned to look at him, after all.  _

_ “Yes, Hero. There is still so much left for you to do” _

_ “I’m not a hero,” he said, placing his hand on his hips. He did not like when people thought of him as more than what he was. It filled him with a sense of unease. But she kept her back to him as they spoke and he felt oddly compelled not to move so she did not see his gestures.  _

_ “Hmm, is that so?” her voice was like the downy coat of a newborn lamb and it filled Link with a warm sense of tranquility that seemed to seep into his bones.  _

_ “I’m not brave like a hero. Or courageous. I’m just me. I’m just Link,” he insisted.  _

_ She stopped her sweet music and lay the instrument gently in her lap.  _

_ “And that is enough. It will always be enough, Hero” she vowed, speaking the words directly into his heart. _

_ Link did not understand what she meant but he didn’t get a chance to ask as another sound drifted between them. This one did not fill him with peace, this one frightened him. Someone far away was screaming his name. The sound was muffled and distorted as if underwater, but he could sense the urgency all the same.  _

_ “Your mother is calling for you, Hero” the woman said, “You cannot stay here, Hyrule needs you. You may only return when your job is done.” _

_ “My job?” _

_ “Go, Hero. We will meet again” _

_ “Okay” _

\----

Ellia felt Link’s body jolt alive as he lurched forward, expelling all the water that he had swallowed along with his lunch. He vomited and sputtered and coughed until his face was red. She held him through it all, rubbing his back and whispering prayers of thanks to the Goddesses for answering her desperate pleas. She would never doubt them again. 

His breathes came in jagged spurts.His lungs were burning, vision blurry. He was disoriented. He didn’t know how he came to be in his mother’s arms. When did she find him?  _ Am I going to be in trouble?  _ Then his father was there too and they were both crying and all Link could do was look around at all the eyes that were staring at him and he was quite embarrassed. 

“I don’t like the waterfall” he said when he had finally gasped in enough air that his lungs were working again. 

Ellia choked on a small laugh and held him out to look at him. He was still pale, but the color was slowly creeping back into his lips. She turned him to examine the back of his head, which was sporting a deep laceration that was still actively bleeding, no doubt contributing to the haggard look that had settled on his small face. She would never grew used to the way he was constantly injuring himself, whether it took the form of tumbling down a rocky hill, falling from trees, or the kicking of angry horses. Trouble seemed to find him wherever he went and more often than not, he took the trouble by the hand and invited it to play with him. That is how he was. But it had never been like  _ this _ . This time, she could feel, she should have lost him. But she hadn’t. She settled into a somber sense of disquiet as she laid him back against her chest, relishing the way his breath warmed her clammy skin. Lennon wrapped his own arms around them and planted a soft kiss on the top of her head before laying his own on top of hers. He had said nothing the entire ordeal. 

“Pardon me, but may I offer some help?” came a gentle voice in front of them. 

Ellia looked up to see the remarkable Zoran Princess standing before them, her exquisite sashes and jewelry making the air in front of her dance around with glints of silver and gold. 

Link too looked up at the sound of his friend’s voice and wanted to say hello, but a deep throbbing had taken over his head and he found it difficult to raise it all. He offered a weak grin instead and hoped she understood. 

“Of course, Lady Mipha, but how can you help?” Ellia asked, touched by the Princess’ sentiment. 

“May I?” Mipha knelt down next to the family and extended a slender hand. 

Both Ellia and Lennon nodded and Mipha placed her hand atop the matted mess that was the back of Link’s head. Link felt a familiar warmth brush over him and leaned into her touch. He felt the pain that had accumulated there begin to wash away. He imagined it draining from his body like a spilled cup of syrup, slowly creeping its way down and back to the water where it came from. He hoped he would never find it again. 

When she was done, Link beamed up at her.

“Thank you” he shivered as his body adjusted. 

Ellia examined his wound again but found nothing but dried blood and a faint scar as if the wound had had weeks to heal. 

“Lady Mipha, I cannot thank you enough,” she uttered in amazement as she continued staring at the healed wound.

“Yes, Lady Mipha, you are forever in our debt,” Lennon stood and bowed to the Princess, “I must go and inform the King of what has happened and express our gratitude. Thank you as well,” he said, gesturing towards Bazz’s father, who was treading water with the two still frightened boys in his arms, “We would be lost without your help”

Bazz’s father gave him a curt nod.

Lennon knelt down and brushed the hair from Link’s eyes. 

“Don’t go getting into any more trouble. That was enough for one day”

“For a lifetime!” Ellia exclaimed.

“Yes, Father” 

With that, Lennon turned and briskly climbed the ladder. A solemn silence fell over the few people gathered on the small platform. Ellia ran her fingers through Link’s hair, Mipha looked out across the water, and Bazz and Rivan tucked their faces into Bazz’s father’s chest. But soon enough, a rumble was heard from Link who had been drifting in and out of a light sleep, body thoroughly exhausted by his ordeal. 

“I’m hungry again,” he sighed. 

Gentle laughter broke the silence as Mipha extended an invitation for the family to join them for dinner in the main hall, which Ellia gracefully accepted. 

\---

Link had a hard time keeping his head from falling into his supper while seated at the grand table. He tried to listen to the stories that seemed to boom from King Dorephan’s mouth, but the words jumbled together, sentences losing meaning before they ever reached his ears. He was amazed at the sight of the portly Zora. He wondered how he had managed to grow so large.  _ Maybe he does eat the other Zoras,  _ he thought to himself.  _ How does he even leave this room? Does he roll out on his belly like a ball? Do the other Zora have to push him? Does he even have legs? _

His thoughts occasionally drifted back to the woman in the nowhere he had found himself earlier that day. It seemed like it had occurred years ago rather than just several hours. He was trying to determine if it had been a dream or not. “His job” she had said. What job did he have to do? He thought he could ask someone, but he didn’t know who or what to ask and now he felt as if his eyelids were betraying him, constantly trying to tuck his eyes away for sleep.  _ I just want to eat _ he thought. 

“It seems the little man hasn’t quite recovered from his ordeal as we thought!” King Dorephan laughed as he watched in amusement as the boy’s head would sag momentarily only to be jerked back upright, “Why don’t you take him to bed, my friends. Let the little lad get some well deserved rest” 

Ellia and Lennon gracefully agreed and whisked the tired child off to their chambers after their proper farewells. 

Link was asleep before Lennon could lay him on their bed, mouth already open, mind blissfully empty of dreams. He had dreamt enough for one day. 

Ellia sat down near the window and let her focus slip, blurring the sight in front of her. 

“He was gone, Lennon” she whispered, “Before you got there. You didn’t see him. He was gone”

Lennon sighed and sat down near her, “He is strong, Ellia. He pulled through”

“No. You don’t understand.  _ He was gone.  _ He was going cold in my hands before he came to again.  _ Cold,  _ Lennon. Something brought him back.  _ Someone  _ brought him back for a reason”

Silence fell between them. In the distance, the waterfall churned, a bird took flight from a tree, the moon shone its silver light upon a newborn foal, still warm from its mother’s body. 

“What are we going to do?” Lennon asked, eyes focused intently on nothing.

“It must be true,” Ellia lamented, “He is the Chosen Hero. Our son is Farore’s Champion. And we’ve been blind to it all these years. His spirit, his strength, our dreams. The Goddesses have been trying to tell us and we have ignored them. So they told us in a way we could not ignore…”

“Ellia, we don’t know that for sure...”

“I know it now. I know it in my heart. In my spirit. In my  _ bones.  _ I think I’ve always known. But I have been selfish. I did not want him to be Hyrule’s champion, I wanted him to be  _ mine _ ” her face began to flush as hot tears trailed their way down her cheeks, “And the Goddesses have punished me for that. They let me feel him dying in my arms, to see him lifeless. They filled me with the very same despair he is meant to eradicate from our world and then they brought the light back. They brought  _ him  _ back” 

She took a deep breath and turned to him. 

“ _ What are we going to do?”  _ she fell into his waiting arms. 

“He is still our son,” Lennon whispered to her hair, running a hand down the contours of her jaw.

“He is not ours anymore” 

“Do we tell the King?”

Lennon looked with pensive sight out the open window and thought of King Rhoam, the beautiful Queen, and the tiny Princess Zelda. She was even younger than Link and had already been strapped with the burden of prophecy, though she had her mother and the Goddess Hylia to guide her. Who would guide his son? There is no bloodline for the Hero, there is only the Hero. The Hero and…

“He doesn’t have the sword,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence once again, “No one will believe he is the Hero without the Sword that Seals the Darkness. No one will believe these prophecies at all until the sword reemerges and no one has seen it in 10,000 years” 

“Then he must be prepared for when he does find it,” Ellia said, sitting up and freeing herself from his arms. 

Ellia’s tears had stopped flowing, replaced with steely determination.

“He must be able to hold his own. If he has to fight the cala-” she took a moment to steady herself, trying unsuccessfully not to picture the battle in her mind, “If he is to battle the Calamity, he must be prepared” 

“Ellia…” Lennon choked out, “He’s just a child…”

“He is the Hero,” she said, cupping his face in her hands.

Lennon closed his eyes and followed the trail of his tears with his mind as they outlined his face and fell from his chin. 

“Do we tell him?” Lennon whispered. 

“No,” she whispered back, learning in closer, their foreheads pressed warmly together, “Not yet. Let him be little a while longer” 

\---

Uncharacteristically, Link slept until noon. When Ellia woke for the first time in 6 years without his face before her, she panicked and flew to his side. He was still calmly tucked into his covers, dirty blonde hair clinging to the sweat that clung to his skin in little ringlets. He was holding his own hands in his sleep. The sight of it nearly brought tears to her eyes.  _ Why does he have to be so sweet,  _ she thought to herself, taking a deep breath to calm her overworked heart. She decided to spend the morning doing something she hadn’t done in years...praying. She nestled herself in a corner of the room and clasped her hands firmly in front of her heart. She prayed for Link’s safety and sent thousands of “thank you’s” skyward for returning him to her. She felt a cool breeze brush at the nape of her neck where she had pulled up her hair.  _ They heard me _ . 

When Link woke, he wanted to go back to sleep. He felt as if his insides were suddenly made of rocks and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pick up his feet to propel him forward.  _ I am a statue,  _ he thought,  _ I am stuck here forever.  _ He let out a small pout and curled back into his soft blankets. When he closed his eyes, he thought he could feel water splashing around in his head.  _ I’m turning into a Zora.  _ He forced one eye open as he glanced at his limp arm before him.  _ Nope, still skin,  _ he thought. 

Ellia tucked her head into the doorway and watched as he tried to coax life back into his body to no avail. She smiled as he mimicked the way Lennon ran a hand down his face in exhaustion. She decided to join him. She sneaked her way under the covers and pulled him towards her. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead” she said, curling her body around his. He was blissfully warm.

“I don’t feel good,” he said.

“You had a hard day,” she breathed into his hair. 

“I don’t want to get up”

“Then go back to sleep,” she said, snuggling him closer. She could feel as he took a deep inhale, his body softening. 

“But I am hungry” he mumbled.

“You can eat later”

“Okay”

“Okay”

Soon enough he had returned to sleep and Ellia decided to nap along with him. 

\----

Link woke to the smell of meat frying and it was enough to raise him from bed. He felt lighter, the pressure in his head all but disappeared. He wandered into the front room of their lodgings and found no one there. He looked out the window and noticed the sun was low in the sky.  _ How long did I sleep?  _ He wondered. He peaked out from the window and saw his mother leaned over a cooking pot, amiably talking to the nice Zoran woman from the inn who called him that awful nickname. His smile turned into a yawn as his body began to adjust to finally being awake. He shook his arms and looked around for his boots before realizing he had lost one in the water.  _ Oops.  _

He shuffled barefoot through the doorway and made his way to his mother, who lit up at the sight of him.

“Link!” she called, opening her arms for him. 

He made his way to her and let her place him on her lap. 

“You almost slept all day,” she laughed, ruffling his hair. 

“I’m sorry”

“No apologies, you needed it,” she said, pecking a small kiss on the top of his head. 

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

He quickly nodded and jumped from her lap to investigate the cooking pot. He loved the way the smells fanned his face, enveloping him in warmth. It made his mouth water. 

“It’s done if you want some,”

Ellia and Link shared the warm meal in companionable silence, though Link sitting quietly had a way of squeezing Ellia’s heart just enough to initiate a slow feeling of sadness. It was a new habit he had picked up since the Yiga attack, she had noticed. She missed the days where he was an open book, letting the story of his mind spill freely at any given opportunity, no matter how nonsensical. Now he seemed distant and contemplative at times. He sat with his bowl of soup in his hands and his mind a thousand miles away. When he felt her gaze on him he turned to her and smiled.  _ There’s my boy,  _ Ellia thought as she returned his smile. 

A small group of Zoras approached them through the amber haze of sunset. Link recognized the two smaller figures as Bazz and Rivan. The others were their parents. The children hide between their parents' legs, uncharacteristically shy. 

“Good evening, Ellia,” Bazz’s mother said, “We had heard your little one was finally up and about. We wanted to come check on him”

Ellia smiled at the group and wrapped an arm loosely around Link, her hand gently patting at the side of his thigh. 

“He is feeling much better now, aren’t you, Link?” she asked as she looked down at him.

He smiled and nodded, but said nothing. Ellia felt her heart constrict.  _ He’s being quiet again.  _

“The boys here had something they wanted to say to the two of you,” Rivan’s mother spoke elegantly. Rivan’s mother was draped in magnificent jewelry and must have been of high importance in the court. Link felt nervous that her attention was so firmly on him, especially as he sat barefoot next to his mother in his disheveled sleeping clothes. 

Bazz and Rivan looked at each other for a tense moment before Rivan nudged at Bazz with a fin. 

“Uh-” Bazzed choked out, “We, uh-”

“We’re sorry!” Rivan butted in, shooting an irritated glance at Bazz. But when their eyes locked, the irritation faded into guilt as they remembered what the apology was really for. They turned to look at Link, who held a neutral expression. 

Link sat still for a moment, letting his eyes dart between the Zoras in front of him. He knew he should probably feel angry that the boys had tricked him into falling down the waterfall. It  _ had  _ been frightening and it  _ had  _ hurt quite a lot when he hit the rocks below. But no matter how hard he tried, the anger would not come. He felt peace settle over him like a warm blanket. 

“It’s okay,” he said with a small grin that he hoped would ease his friends’ guilt. 

“You’re not mad at us?!” Bazz asked and Rivan nodded in agreement, seconding the question. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he said quietly. 

“Are we still friends?” Rivan asked just as quietly, fearing the answer he may receive. He wasn’t sure how many children would want to stay friends after almost dying. 

“Yes!” Link smiled and the warmth of it lit up his blue eyes, which shone bright even in the twilight of sunset. 

The three mothers shared a look of amusement at the boys conversation. The Zoran parents were clearly relieved, as were Bazz and Rivan, who were now buzzing around Link and telling him all about the evening he had missed in his sleep. 

Rivan’s mother knelt close to Ellia and held her warm hand in her cold fin. 

“You have a special boy, Ellia” she said kindly, “He has a kind heart”

Ellia looked at Link as he ardently listened to the little Zoras’ story and felt pride well up within her. She knew he was the Goddess’ chosen. The reincarnation of the hero. He was destined to be distinguished since birth, whether she had recognized it back then or not. But she also knew that he was  _ hers. He came from me, too,  _ she thought. There was something  _ more _ living within him. Something more than just heroic courage and valor and strength. There was a gentleness and kindness and a capacity to love that was exclusively of his own making. 

“I know,” she replied, gently squeezing the kind Zora’s fin, “He does”

“Come play with us!” the Zora boys shouted in unison.

Link looked at them before turning to his mother.

“I don’t think I want to...right now,” he answered. 

“Come boys, let him rest,” Bazz’s mother said, “There will be time for playing another day”

At that, the little group was ushered away and Link watched the space where their shadows disappeared for a long moment before turning to his mother, who was watching him carefully.

“Mama?” 

“Yes, my love?  
  
Link shuffled in his seat and curled his toes against the cold stone beneath him. 

“Do you know the story of the hero and the princess?” he whispered. 

Ellia closed her eyes and felt the cool wind blow across her tired features. Kodah had long since retired back into the inn to finish her nightly duties, leaving the two of them blissfully alone. 

“I do” 

“Could you tell me?”

“I can”

She pulled him into her lap once again and breathed him in as he slouched into the crook of her neck. She felt the familiar ache growing inside her once again and hoped that Link could not feel the sadness that threatened to envelope her at every mention of heros or calamities or princesses. She knew. But he did not know. Or so she thought. 

“What made you think of that story? I’ve never told you that one before,” she wondered aloud. 

“The other knights” he replied, taking a small handful of her shirt into his small hand, enjoying the way the smooth fabric slipped between his fingers. 

“I see,” she said, leaning back to support his weight against her before she told him the age old tale that she had heard from her mother, that her mother had heard from her grandmother, and on and on. 10,000 years of tales of courage and wisdom and mythical swords and sealing powers and great battles against great evils. He sat remarkably still through all of it, never interrupting her with questions as he usually did, seemingly soaking in her every word until she reached the end. 

“Will there be another hero and another princess?” he asked.

“Well, we already have a princess, don’t we?” she smiled down at him, hoping that would satisfy him. 

Link felt a warm blush creep across his cheeks as he thought of the little golden princess who had giggled at him back at the castle. He hadn’t considered that  _ she  _ was the princess in question. The thought of her trying to battle anything other than butterfly made him oddly nervous. He decided not to think of that anymore. 

“Hey Mama?” he asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

“What does it mean for a place to need you?”

A puzzled expression fell across Ellia’s face as she looked down at him. His brows were set in his own look of confusion as he continued to study the fabric of her shirt in his hands with idle interest. In his mind, Link was going over the words of the woman he had met in his unconsciousness, trying to find meaning in them but coming up short.  _ Hyrule needs you _ she had said. But what did that mean? Why did a place need anybody? And why did it need  _ him? _

_“_Nevermind,” he breathed. _  
_ He sighed deeply as he noticed a lightning bug dart across the field of his vision. He wondered if bugs ever had an agenda. _Do they even know where they are going? Or do they just go until they get squished? Do bugs have dreams? _He let his mind once again fill with questions as his mother sat in her own reverie above him. 

_ Does he know?  _ she thought as she watched him trace the path of the insect with his eyes.  _ How could he possibly know?  _

Suddenly Link stood from her lap and quietly trailed behind the glowing insect with outstretched hands. He walked on tiptoes in an unneeded attempt at stealth as he closed to gap between them, capturing the little creature in his hands. He walked back to face her, triumphantly thrusting the cage of his hands towards her with a goofy smile on his face. 

“I got it,” he smiled. 

“You did,” she smiled back. 

When the insect finally managed to escape from a small crack between fingers, it walked along the edge of his hand. Link followed its movement as it walked across his knuckles, turning his hand over to keep it in sight. Every pulse of light from in insect was punctuated by his widening grin. 

“I think it likes you,” Ellia said. 

Link looked at her then and she allowed herself to fall deep into the puddles of his eyes.  _ What those eyes will see that we cannot comprehend.  _ In that moment, with his dirty blonde hair tousled in messy waves around his head, his crumpled sleeping clothes wrinkled with the patterns of deep sleep, and the residue of dinner still resting on his cheeks - he did not look like the Hero of Hyrule. He looked like Link, the now 6 year old from Hateno, who chased fireflies and still fell asleep in his mother’s arms. She tried not to linger on it too long. Instead, she smiled back at him and stood to help him gather more insects - happy to live in this moment for now. They could deal with the calamity tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you guys feel about the story so far? I do enjoy comments.


	9. Growing Stronger

Lennon’s sword clattered across the stone floor as if it had a life of its own. Link stood wide eyed across from his father, holding his much smaller sword in his much smaller hand.  _ How did I do that?  _ He thought. To a son, there is no greater force in the world than their father. Link was no exception. If someone had asked a hand in pulling the moon from the sky, Link would not have hesitated to suggest his father do it. His father was a mythical being in his mind. He could lift boulders, he could slay fields of monsters, he could lead fields of men into battle and still come home to him. Yet here he was, breathless and swordless in front of his son. Link did not like the way it made him feel. Lennon was sharing similar feelings as he stared at the boy in front of him who had suddenly taken on an unfamiliar shape.  _ How did he do that? _

_ “ _ I...didn’t mean to….” Link stammered, resting the tip of his sword against the ground. 

Lennon looked up at him and noticed the way he couldn’t meet his eyes. Link had a habit of scrunching up his face when he was upset. His blonde eyebrows were trying their hardest to come together as he stared hard into the ground, fearful of what his father may say to him.  _ Is he mad at me?  _ he thought to himself as he studied the pattern of tile beneath him.

“You didn’t mean to win, you mean?” Lennon asked cautiously as he approached the boy, who had let his sword slide to the ground.

In fairness, Lennon  _ hadn’t  _ expected Link to best him. He had watched him square off with the other knights and seen him beat them time and time again, but his pride had not allowed him to ever imagine that Link could beat  _ him.  _ Especially not now, when he felt he was at his strongest. But he had. He had maneuvered around him with the agility of the greatest Sheikah and hit him with blows that rivaled his own. He had been training with the guard for the better part of a year now and had only grown better. His movements were fluid, his precision was dead on.  _ He is remarkable _ , Lennon thought. 

“It’s okay, son,” Lennon said as he placed a reassuring hand on the boy’s small shoulder, “I’m very proud of you”

Link’s eyes were wide and glossy like two sapphire marbles as he looked up at his father.

“You are?”

“I am”

Lennon knelt down beside him and brushed an unruly wave of blond hair from his face. 

“Do you know what today is?” he asked.

Link cocked his head to the side and eyed his father carefully. He tried to think of anything that would have made this day any different than another, but fell short.

“What is it?” he asked.

Lennon smiled and stood, stretching his muscles until he felt a satisfying row of clicks descend down his spine. 

“Oh nothing,” he intoned playfully, turning his back to the now very curious boy. 

Link stood in confused silence as long as his body would allow him before picking up his own weapon and chasing after his father.

“What do you mean?!” he questioned as he caught up with Lennon and walked backwards before him. 

Lennon simply shrugged and continued walking forward. 

“Dad!” 

Lennon suppressed the urge to laugh at the way Link was tripping over his own feet as he tried to continue his backwards stride. His eyes were full of questions and curiosity. Lennon knew how to bait the boy and wanted to see his nosiness come to life once again so he continued to say nothing, only humming a simple soldier's tune as he strolled towards the center of the domain, which was glistening to life as the sun began to rise over its elegant architecture. Link had woken well before dawn and Lennon thought to take advantage of the quiet moment with a quick morning training. They hadn’t even stopped to eat breakfast, which was fortunate enough because Lennon happened to know what awaited them back at their lodgings. As they rounded the long archway to what now felt like their home, Link stopped as the scent of something very enticing found its way into his nostrils.

“What’s that smell?” he wondered aloud.

“I don’t smell anything,” Lennon teased.

“You don’t smell that?!” Link exclaimed, turning on his heels to stare at his father with the most quizzical look.  _ His nose must be broken,  _ he thought. It was his favorite smell. One that only came when the trees began to shift to sepia tones and the wind grew nippy against his cheeks.  _ Cinnamon.  _

Lennon simply raised an eyebrow and stopped briefly before their door, “I wonder if your mother is awake yet?”

Link followed the smell into the middle of their shared room with his eyes closed. Ellia watched in amusement as he bumped into their table before finally taking a look at the source of the smell. On the table sat a still very warm and very fresh apple pie, baked with extra cinnamon, just the way he liked it most. The smile that shot across Link’s face filled Ellia with so much love that she felt she would float away with it. 

“Who is that for?” Link asked, wide-eyed at the sight of the delicious confection before him.

“It’s yours, my sweet!” Ellia laughed, her face melting into one of pure affection as her sweet boy eyed the pie like it was the greatest treasure he had ever seen. 

“For me?!” Link burst as he gently propped his sword against the wall near the door, not forgetting the promise he made to be respectful with it, even distracted as he was by the sight of his favorite dessert sitting and waiting for him. 

“Happy Birthday, darling,” Ellia cooed and motioned for him to sit beside her. It never ceased to amaze her that he seemed to forget his birthday every year. She wondered if he was simply too busy to think of it or if he assumed it wasn’t a yearly occurrence at all. He never asked for anything and was always so authentically thankful for whatever he was given, as if he didn’t expect anything at all. She was sure she could gift him an old broken tea kettle and he would be happier for it and find a place around their home to stash it in. 

“I’m seven now?” he asked, leaning so close to the pie his nose was brushing the top of the latticed top. 

“A whole seven,” Ellia replied, leaning back in her chair to watch him, “What do you plan to do now that you’re grown?”

Lennon took off his weapons and sat down with a sigh beside Ellia, watching as Link thought the question over. If one was well versed in Link, they could watch the path a question took in his mind. It first entered his ears, seemingly heavier on one side than another, causing him to ever so slightly tilt his head. It then would reach the space right behind his eyes, which would narrow, his brow furling to some degree, depending on the intensity of the question. The answer formulated somewhere between those motions and one would hear it as it bounced from his lips like a frog darting free from a child’s grasp.

“I think I’ll start by eating pie,” he deadpanned, clearly more interested in eating than teasing. 

“Well, let’s not dally any longer then,” Ellia laughed as she slid the pan over to her to cut him a slice.

“Wait!” he interjected, holding his hands up in the air between them, “it’s morning?”

“You must eat pie for breakfast on your seventh birthday, it is a kingdom tradition,” his father said in his most courtly voice. 

“Oh, okay” Link smiled and settled in between them before attempting to shove the entire piece in his mouth whole. 

\---

Link wasn’t sure who told Mipha it was his birthday, but somehow she seemed to know. She had arrived at his door shortly after breakfast and summoned him in her most dignified voice to walk with her to the middle of the Domain for what she called a “surprise”. Given that she was actually a princess, Link wasn’t sure he could refuse so he had gone without question, but not without asking his father not to eat the leftover pie. Lennon had only winked in return and Link wasn’t sure what that meant. 

“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday!” Mipha scolded him as they walked side by side down the long winding archway, “I would have gotten you something fitting…”

“Sorry, I forgot” he said, rubbing the back of his head. 

“You forgot?!” Mipha had a hard time believing  _ anyone  _ would forget their birthday. Her birthdays were usually extravagant affairs for the whole domain. There were feasts, dancing, games, and more merriment than any other day of the year, all thanks to her father. But Link’s birthday had come with no preparation and he seemed none the less bothered by it. It perplexed her. 

Mipha steered Link down a series of steps and into a chamber he had never been in before. There was a subtle blue hue drifting all across the room and the faint sound of water droplets filled his ears. Before him there were many differently sized ponds built into the floor, each seeming to house a distinct Zora. Mipha weaved through the room with an expertise that told Link this was a place she visited often. He trailed quietly behind. Her gentle footsteps came to rest on the rim of a pond in the very back of the room where he could see a magnificent maroon Zoran woman lazily drifting through the water. 

“Oh, hello my love,” the Zora woman called, her eyes filling with warmth at the sight of the small princess, “I see you have finally brought me your friend after all this time” she turned to face Link who suddenly felt very shy, “You must be Link, I’ve heard so much about you” 

Link stood motionless behind Mipha, who seemed to be radiating with glee. He peered around her shoulder to inspect the magnificent creature who had just addressed him directly. She was similar in color to Mipha, though somehow she appeared more subdued. While Mipha was akin to a blush on his mother’s cheeks, this Zora was a deeper maroon, like the leaves in deep fall. She carried herself with serenity, as if every wave her of fins released her calm into the waters around her. 

“I’m - yes,” he stammered when the awkward silence surrounding him had broken through his thoughts. 

“You’re ‘yes’?” the Zoran woman laughed, “I thought you were Link”

Mipha tried to hide her face as she giggled, but the amiable sounds wormed their way through. 

“Yes, I’m Link,” he corrected himself, quite sure he now matched the red hues of the little group he had found himself in. 

“Well, Link, I’m Lana, I am the Queen of this Domain. But I don’t think you came here to meet me,” the beautiful Zora said as she drifted towards the edge of the water. 

“No, mother, we came to see Sidon! You said he could play today!” Mipha cheered beside him. 

“That I did,” Lana beamed as she turned her back and gently swam to the other side of the pool. 

Link looked at Mipha as confusion blossomed across his face but she only giggled and turned back to where her mother had crossed the room to a small pond and was gingerly coaxing something out of the water. When she stood, she had yet another crimson Zora in her arms, but this one was much smaller than any other Zora he had ever seen. Even smaller than Rivan and Bazz. His head fin was comically large and Link wondered how the tiny creature would stand without falling to one side. Lana placed Sidon on the floor and he looked up at Mipha and Link with such enthusiasm in his eyes that Link thought they would burst. 

“Mipha!” he seemed to chirp, spinning around in small circles, intermittently whipping Link with his long head fin.

  
“Hello, Sidon!” Mipha said, kneeling down to be closer to her brother, who was now chomping at the air with his chiseled teeth.

“Mipha!” Sidon repeated before moving onto where Link stood. The two boys exchanged curious glances before Sidon cautiously shuffled closer. Instinctively, Link took a slight step backwards and narrowed his eyes at the inquisitive little creature before him. 

“Hello,” Link said slowly.

Sidon’s eyes jolted up to Link’s face at the sound of his voice. Before Link could process the odd look in his tiny eyes, the tiny Zora had leaped into the air and bitten down on his forearm with as much force as he could muster. With a loud yelp, Link fell backwards, taking Sidon with him. The two tumbled in a mess of skin and fins until they slipped into an empty pond behind them. The two quickly sank to the bottom of the warm pool, where Sidon finally released his jaws. Link quickly pushed off the bottom of the pool and gasped for air when he breached the surface. The first thing he saw when he finally managed to open his eyes was Mipha tearfully shoving her brother back into their mother’s arms. 

“Oh Link, I’m so sorry! He just isn’t ready to be around Hylians yet! I’m so sorry!” she sputtered as she helped him from the pool, “I thought it would be a surprise for your birthday but I was so wrong! Now you’re hurt!”

Link looked down at his arm to assess the damage. Right above his right elbow was the perfect impression of Sidon’s sharp teeth; each tooth opening a small slit in his skin. He turned his arm over to watch his blood lazily slide down his wet skin, thinning as it mixed with the water from the pool before dripping off the tips of his fingers onto the floor below. 

“He bites” Link stated calmly as he watched the puddle below him shift to a translucent pink color that reminded him of flowers in his mother’s garden. 

Without asking, Mipha took his injured arm in her fins and Link felt her power closing the minuscule puncture marks.  _ This one tickles, _ he thought as he closed his eyes and focused on the magic that enveloped his arm. When he felt the warmness recede he cautioned a glance and found that the holes on his skin had closed completely, leaving only the faintest trace of a scar. 

“Thank you,” he smiled at Mipha, who was very obviously still pouting beside him.

“Thank you?! For getting you injured on your birthday?!” Mipha nearly yelled.

Behind them Lana cleared her throat to remind to two of her presence. 

“Mipha, dear, look at the boy, does he seem upset to you?” Lana said sweetly as Mipha stood, still fretting, beside him. Mipha glanced at him through her budding tears. He was standing quite calmly, tracing the small scars on his arm with quiet hands. If she could hear the thoughts in his mind, she would hear as he pondered the little crescent shapes and how closely they resembled the moon. She would hear his musings as he pictured himself as an old man, wondering if he would still remember the little Zora that bit him as he sat with his gray hair lifting in a warm wind. She stared at him until he felt her eyes upon him and lifted his own to meet her gaze. 

“Do you want to go swimming?” he asked. 

Lana smiled at Mipha and pushed her towards him, whispering, “He has a forgiving spirit, my child. Go now and play before you waste anymore time with guilt” 

At that, the two ambled off to swim. 

\---

Sir Thomas spied Link and Mipha splashing each other in the river as he led a small group of soldiers up the path to Polymus Mountain. He smiled at the sight of them. He had grown quite attached to Link in the time they had spent together since being stationed with the Zoras. He was a gracious child with a wild spirit. He reminded him of himself at a younger age. He had hoped to sneak past the pair without garnering their attention, but it was difficult to slip past the observant boy. 

“Where are you going!” Link yelled across the river when his ever-watching eyes had spied the group walking past them. 

“Some dirty business for King Dorephan before we head out tomorrow, you needn’t worry boy!” Sir Thomas shot back at him without stopping, sighing as he watched Link dart from the water, slipping wet feet into his boots as he ran up the river towards him.

“What do you mean ‘dirty business?’ And where are we going tomorrow?” Link quizzed him, trotting alongside the group of men as they hiked up the trail. 

Sir Thomas sighed and knelt down at eye level. Link was soaking wet, his thin shirt clinging to his small, now quite muscular frame, given his age. They had been training with the Zoras for over a year now, with Link joining them daily. He had quickly shown that his aptitude for fighting was only increasing as he refined his skills. Sir Thomas hated to admit how impressed he was with the boy. He feared the skill he would possess as a man. But standing before him now, he looked more like a drowned rodent than a fighter. He cautioned a laugh.

“Did your father not tell you? I’ll let him break that news for you. As for us, King Dorephan asked if we would clear out the Lynel from the top of the mountain. Nasty thing. Electric variety. Too dangerous for a little fellow like you, brave though as you are” Sir Thomas smiled, though immediately regretting ever letting the word “Lynel” slip from his eager lips as soon as he saw Link’s face, which had lit up like sunrise through an open window. 

“A LYNEL?” he nearly burst, eyes wide and full of the question Sir Thomas silently prayed he wouldn’t ask.

“I’ve never  _ seen _ a lynel before! Can I come? Can I? Please?!” Link pleaded, those dreadful blue eyes of his boring into Sir Thomas’ very soul. 

“Absolutely not,” he held firm, “you mother would murder me. Your father would strip me of my knighthood. The King would have me imprisoned...”

Disappointment washed over Link’s face like a flash flood, threatening to wash him away entirely. Sir Thomas tried to ignore the tears that began to build in the boy’s determined eyes, but they were hard to ignore. He was suddenly glad he didn’t have children of his own. He wasn’t sure he would have the strength to break their hearts like he was currently breaking Link’s. But he had to stand firm, he had to…

“I promise I’m brave enough, Sir Thomas, I won’t freeze again. It won’t be like when…” Link’s voice trailed off at the memory that sent fresh spikes of guilt through his heart, which shot clean through the boy before they pierced the now faltering resolve of Sir Thomas. 

_Shit_, he thought, __why did he have to bring that up? Are the goddesses torturing me?  
_  
_ He sighed deeply, trying not to imagine the look that was upon Link’s face that night as he sliced through the Yiga foot soldier. He__ had grown since then. 

“ _ You can only watch,”  _ he spoke firmly, a finger pointed at Link’s face, “Under no circumstances do you attempt to join us, do you understand?” 

Link put on his most studious face as he saluted the knight and gave a serious, “Yes, sir” 

Sir Thomas turned to Mipha who had been curiously watching the exchange from a few feet behind. 

“Lady Mipha,” he bowed, “I’m afraid I don't have the authority to grant you permission to join us as well, though I wouldn’t think of risking your life on such a dangerous endeavor. Please forgive me”

“And you would risk Link’s?” she asked, eyebrows raised in judgement. 

“Well if you have any ideas on how to distract him, my lady, I’m all ears,” Sir Thomas joked, hoping to ease the tension that was building in her small face. 

Link shrunk behind Sir Thomas, clearly torn between the two of them. 

“I’ll meet up with you later, I promise” he said softly.

Mipha huffed in a display of frustration before turning away to walk from the group, “Well, don’t come to me if you get hurt, you reckless boy!”

“Women,” Sir Thomas sighed when he was sure she could no longer hear him, “where’s their sense of adventure, am I right?”

Link awkwardly laughed before running ahead of the group, his eagerness briefly overtaking his confusion at Mipha’s response.

“Hey!” Sir Thomas shouted after him, “I said  _ watch!  _ Remember?! Just watching!” 

But Link was too excited to slow down.

\---

The lynel was larger than Link ever anticipated. It paraded itself around the clearing of the mountain, stopping every few feet to shake it’s fiery mane and let out a few grumbled roars that vibrated though Link’s body like a landslide. The men in Sir Thomas’ group were spread around the clearing, huddled behind large rocks, waiting on a sign.

“We’re going to confuse it,” Sir Thomas explained in hushed whispers, “Lynels are proud creatures. Once it sees one of us, it will charge blindly. When it’s distracted, another man with hit it from behind. We just keep that up until it wears out and we will win eventually” 

Link’s amazement kept him from blurting out the thoughts that raced through his mind. He was also fearful the beast would hear him and find him hidden behind his own boulder where he had been given strict instructions to stay. 

“Do  _ not  _ move from behind his boulder, no matter what you see or hear, do you understand?” 

Link chanced another peak around the corner at the beast. It was massive; every movement shifting the thick muscles underneath its skin. It’s beady eyes seemed to scan to area around it like a machine, huffing and charging at the slightest movement. _ He could eat me,  _ Link thought.  _ I wonder what I would taste like.  _ He looked down at himself, imagining the giant beast roasting him over a campfire. The thought made him shiver. 

“Link!” Sir Thomas whispered with fervor this time, “did you hear me?!”

Link looked at Sir Thomas who was staring at him with an intensity he hadn’t seen in the man since the Yiga attack. 

“Yes, sir” Link whispered. 

_ Hylia help me,  _ Sir Thomas thought as he turned his back to the boy and motioned to the soldier across from him to start the attack. The brave soldier leapt from his boulder with a loud whistle to attract the creature, who turned with unnatural speed towards the sound, already knocking a strange yellow arrow in its massive bow. The arrow whizzed past the soldier, who had hastily hidden himself once more as another man in another location ran towards the beast and slashed the back of its equine legs. The man out in the open then scrambled back to safety as another soldier distracted the beast once more. It was quite the efficient system and it left the beast bloodied and winded after a time. The battle seemed to be leaning towards the soldiers' victory until one of the Lynel’s arrows made contact with the metal breastplate of one of Sir Thomas’ men, causing his muscles to seize; dropping him to the ground. The bruised and bloodied creature roared in excitement as it charged towards its victim, who now lay helpless and incapacitated out in open. 

“Alistair!” cried Sir Thomas in dismay as he watched his man writhe in the open ground. With a grunt, he pushed himself from his hiding place and ran towards the beast, knocking an arrow and striking the creature in the back of the head. The lynel turned on its heel, stopping just short of the injured soldier, and turned to face its new target in the middle of the field. 

Link gasped as he watched the two square off in the open. Sir Thomas looked very small in comparison to the lynel. Even the lynel’s weapon seemed to best him in size. But he held his ground as the beast sidestepped and eyed him cautiously, sizing him up. Link thought Sir Thomas was the bravest man he had even seen. He decided to help him. As Sir Thomas fended off the attacks of the mighty beast, Link formulated a plan in his mind. Link could hear the crashing of weapons as he snuck from boulder to boulder before finally finding the injured soldier’s weapons just within his reach. 

“Boy!” yelled Alistair, who was crawling towards the safety of the boulder, “help me!” 

Link eyed the man who was still very much in the open before darting out to help drag him behind the rock. Once he had the man hidden, he chanced another outing to grab his sword, bow, and quiver, which had fallen to the ground. As soon as Link rounded the exterior of the boulder once more, the lynel had spotted him. Link looked up in horror to see Sir Thomas in a heap on the ground and the beast’s sharp gaze upon him. The creature was breathing heavily and openly bleeding from multiple wounds, but it did not slow its movements as it reared back and headed straight for Link. Several of the other soldiers released arrows that ripped into its thick hide as it charged towards the boy, but if the beast felt the pain from them it did not show it. Its hatred fueled determination led it in a straight path to where Link stood, now equipped with Alistair’s sword. It was much heavier than the one his father had gifted him, but it would do. 

Link waited until the last moment before rapidly vaulting from his position as the creature came upon him, causing the beast to crash into the rock that he had been standing in front of. He took advantage of the opening and began slashing at the beast from behind as it attempted to right itself. Bright blood began pouring from the wounds he was inflicting, but Link did not notice. His mind had focused on the blade in his hand and the wide arching movements it made as it crashed into the beast before him. 

“LINK!” he heard from behind him as Sir Thomas stood, shaking the pain from his aching limbs. The lynel had momentarily thrashed him to the ground, but Link’s little distraction had given him enough time to get his bearings again. The sight of Link squaring off with the massive monster pushed more adrenaline into his veins and he raced to the battle just as the lynel turned to eye the small boy that was ripping his flank to shreds. 

“Hey!” Sir Thomas yelled, waving his arms above his head, “pick on someone your own size,you fat-kidneyed beast!” 

The lynel let out a mighty roar and charged towards the man, momentarily leaving Link behind. Sir Thomas stood in ready stance, knuckles white as he gripped his weapon in anticipation. The beast reared back upon closing the distance and he readied himself for the blow. But the blow never came. Instead, the beast roared and began distorting its body in pain, blood flowing from its slacked jaw as it ran out the rest of its life force around the clearing before its legs buckled, toppling the mighty beast to the ground. When its body finally stilled, Sir Thomas noticed the sword sticking through the creature's neck. For a moment, all was still. The only sound that could be heard was the gentle flowing of the waterfall off in the distance. 

“Are you okay?” 

The small voice brought Sir Thomas back to reality and he blinked several times to clear his vision, which was blurred in a combination of pain and confusion. Link was standing before him, winded and sweaty, but seemingly unharmed. The other soldiers began to file out of their hiding places, some assisting Alistair who was still having difficulty using the fried muscles in his legs. 

“Uh...did you...uh...how?” Sir Thomas stuttered as he continued to stare at the fallen beast. 

“I’m sorry I disobeyed,” Link said, shifting his focus down to the ground, “I didn’t want it to hurt you.” 

Sir Thomas looked at him standing before him. His dirty blonde hair sticking to the sweat that clung to his forehead, clothes speckled with blood from the lynel. He tried to imagine how he had managed to leap onto its back and dive the sword through its neck. Surely such a feat was impossible? He may have been strong and talented, but no  _ child  _ could ever possibly…

“That kid jumped in the air and sliced through that damn lynel like a piece of meat on a dinner plate” marveled a soldier to Sir Thomas’ right, who was staring at the beast with the same look of awe that had washed over his own face, “I’ve never seen anything like it” 

Link blushed and ruffled his hair with his hands, unsticking it from his forehead before looking up at the men who were now very pointedly staring at him. 

“Way to go kid!” 

“Your Pa is going to be proud of you, boy!”

“Your Pa is going to kill me,” breathed Sir Thomas before patting Link on the head, “but I guess that means we’re even now, huh?” 

Link smiled up at the knight, “I guess so” 

“Let’s get back before the damn thing decides to resurrect itself. I don’t want to see another lynel for the rest of my life”

The troupe gathered once more and began to slow trek down Polymus mountain. Link walked alongside the group and for once, felt proud to be among them.  _ I am brave,  _ he thought,  _ almost as brave as my father.  _ The thought warmed him like a hearty meal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fat-kidneyed. Another medieval word for stupid. It comes from a belief that dumb people have the aforementioned anatomical distinction."  
I've put a few medieval slang words in here for my own enjoyment. This one made me giggle. I imagine Sir Thomas with a cockney accent, some lowborn fellow that made it to knighthood. 
> 
> I've caught up with what I've written so far, so now I've got to flesh my outline out before I post. But I'll try my hardest to update weekly. I started a new job in August and this is my way of avoiding that. I hope you guys are enjoying it.


	10. Goodbye

"You did  _ what?!”  _ Ellia shouted across the promenade as Link shrunk into a corner, trying to make himself very small. He squeezed his eyes so tightly that starbursts of light danced across the darkness before him.  _ She’s scarier than the lynel,  _ he thought to myself,  _ very _ careful not to let that particular thought escape the safety of his mind. 

“Uh...well...it was a lynel and...Sir Thomas said…” 

Ellia threw her hands up in exasperation, the updraft causing her stray blonde hairs to twirl around her face. 

“ _ Sir Thomas said _ ,” she seethed, “Did Sir Thomas raise you? Hmm? Who does he think he is, taking a child up that mountain to battle...to battle that...THING? You could have been stomped to death! Or impaled! Or…”

Ellia paced around the room, vividly describing all manners of death that  _ could  _ have and  _ might  _ have occurred to Link while he “traipsed around” on that mountain with that “fool of a knight”. Link knew better than to voice his opinion on the matter. He stood like a statue in salute, appropriately nodding “yes” or “no” when prompted until she seemed to run out of steam, falling to her knees before him, grabbing his face in her hands. Link thought she was squeezing a little more rough than the situation called for but dared not say anything. 

“I just cannot imagine you staring down some vile beast, little as you are…” 

Realization of her words hit her harder than she anticipated.  _ He  _ ** _will _ ** _ be facing some vile beast _ , she thought,  _ much more vile than any lynel.  _ She closed her eyes and tried to push the images away, but they broke through her already fragile defenses, causing fresh tears to adorn her face once more.  _ I’m tired of crying about this,  _ she inwardly scolded herself,  _ he needs me to be strong for him.  _

“Mama?” Link asked, sensing the shift in her demeanor, “I didn’t get hurt, I promise. And...I was very brave…even Sir-” 

“I know” she shushed him, “It just scares me. And I love you so much…”

“Do brave knights get scared?” he asked, watching the way her eyes filled and emptied before him, the heavy droplets caressing the sides of her cheeks. 

“Only wise knights get scared,” she told him, taking his hands in her own, “to not feel fear is to be reckless and recklessness is foolishness”

“You said Sir Thomas was a foolish-”

“Nevermind Sir Thomas, I’ll deal with him later,” she scolded quickly before softening her glance at him. She wondered if he would ever grow into his eyes or if she would forever fall into their cerulean abyss. She took a deep breath and kissed him warmly on the forehead before standing, trying the brush her sadness away with the dust. 

“Now,” she said, “run along and tell your friends goodbye. We will be leaving at first light in the morning” 

“What? Why?” Link quizzed below her, his little heart having seized up at her words. He had begun to see the Domain as his home over the past year, his Zora playmates becoming much like family. The thought of not seeing them made his stomach do flips. 

“The King has called us back to the caste for Hylia’s Day,” she explained as she folded his clothes, neatly stacking their small shapes in piles before her, “The Princess is turning five and he wants the whole kingdom to celebrate” 

“I’m invited to the Princess’ birthday?” he breathed as Ellia laughed.

“Yes, Link. You and the entire kingdom” 

“Oh” he laughed. 

Ellia smiled at him, “Make sure you tell Mipha goodbye, though she may still be mad at you” 

“Why is she mad at me?” 

“Link”

“Oh” 

Ellia watched as he flew out the door, a blur of blonde hair and energy.

\---

Mipha thought if she stared at him long enough, she could commit his face to memory...if only he would stop moving. Link had nearly toppled into her in his mad dash to tell goodbyes. Although she was his first stop, she had selfishly held him up in his quest; his anxiousness about the whole ordeal blazing through him in a series of jerky movements. He balanced on one leg, then another, hopping between them. He rolled his shoulders and squeezed his own hands. He wrinkled and unwrinkled his forehead, comically raising his eyebrows up and down. He never knew what to do with nervousness. He could handle excitement, sadness, disappointment, even fear. But nervousness was some strange beast that seemed to leap all around his body, never settling in one spot for long. He tried to chase it away, but it never worked; his inward battle displayed in his odd movements. 

“But who will heal you when you’re hurt?!” she cried. 

“I guess just me?” 

Though Link was rightfully mystified by her healing powers, he had not come to rely on them. His body was well equipped to handle his raucous operations. He never feared a scrape or a bruise, as he’d never remembered life without some part of his body aching in some way. 

“I just...hate to see you go, is all,” Mipha mumbled and the normally cream colored scales around her cheeks flushed crimson. 

“I’ll come back,” Link said.

“Promise?” 

“Promise”

“Link?”

As he finally looked up at her through his nervous dance, a strong wind tousled his hair into his face. His father had long since given up asking him to cut it and it had grown beyond his shoulders by now, the long unruly waves curling around his upper back like a nest of blonde snakes. He shook his head to clear it from his eyes and Mipha thought he looked like some creature from the forest in disguise of a boy. 

“Maybe get a haircut at the castle” 

“Never” he grinned and the prospect of it nearly split his face in two. 

Mipha hesitated momentarily before chancing a quick kiss on his cheek. His eyes went wide as the sound of her giggling filled the gap between them. Link could feel the kiss on his cheek like some delicate insect crawling across his skin. He imagined her kiss as a butterfly as it took flight from his face, leaving him warm and tingly in its absence. He wondered where it would end up.  _ I wonder if I’ll ever find it again,  _ he thought. 

“Don’t forget me, Link” Mipha smiled at him. 

“I’ll try” he smiled in return. 

\---

Link had kept his head turned backwards for so long, trying to keep Zora’s domain in his sights as his father’s convoy started their trek back to the castle, that it felt rigid and stiff when he finally righted himself and let go of the sigh that had been building deep inside him. Ellia leaned forward on the horse they were sharing and gently pat the side of his thigh. 

“It’s okay, darling, you can always return,” she tried to comfort him. 

“When?”

She pondered the thought a moment before answering him honestly. 

“I do not know” 

He answered by leaning his back into her, settling his weight against her chest as he eyed the kingdom around him in solemn silence. It had been nearly a year and a half since Ellia and Link had traveled together on horseback. She noted how much taller he seemed to be now compared to when they had first arrived to the Domain, his shaggy head resting much higher against her chest than it used to. He even felt different. Slowly he had replaced most of his softness with the hard lines of newly forming muscles, earned from long days swinging a sword or a spear with his father or his father’s men. His skin even boasted a healthy tan from his long days spent swimming in the open sun.  _ But his heart is the same,  _ she thought,  _ he’s still my boy.  _

The convoy traveled at a steady pace for most of the day. Link spent his time jumping on and off his mother’s horse, occasionally riding with Sir Thomas, asking him to share his many tales of knighthood to pass the time. Link wasn’t sure how many of Sir Thomas’ tales were actually truths, but he chose to believe them nonetheless. The world would be a much duller place if he chose not to believe a single man could sneak past a group of sleeping bokoblins and steal the meat from their fire pit without being noticed. He had never seen a bokoblin before, but he imagined them to be hideously fearsome beasts. He tried not to stay too long near Sir Thomas as it seemed to anger his mother, who was not quite over his stunt with the lynel. 

“Oh, Sir Thomas, do make sure he doesn’t fall off a cliff while he’s over there, will you?” Ellia snarked at him. 

“Yes, ma’am” Sir Thomas replied, sinking down into his horse to whisper to Link. 

“Perchance we should have kept the lynel a little secret between us, aye lad?” 

Link stifled a giggle under his mother’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Maybe she’s just jealous,” Link laughed, which caused Sir Thomas to erupt behind him, earning him more scowls from Ellia. 

“Right. She wanted that little nasty all to herself, mate. I’m sure you’re right,” he laughed, patting Link on the head. Link briefly wondered why adults were always touching him on the head like a dog. He tried to think of a time when he had noticed two  _ adults  _ pat each other on the head, but fell short. 

“Appears your father is stopping us for the night,” Sir Thomas broke through his thoughts, “best appear busy. Go on, then” 

Link took his cue to leave as the small group started to pitch their tents in the small clearing. He watched as knights and lower soldiers dragged heavy canvas across the ground, damp from a recent rain, and hung them across poles stuck deep in the earth. He pondered the temporary homes in a moment of stillness while the world continued to buzz around him. Suddenly, he wasn’t there anymore. He was five again, laying in his mother’s tent. The whooshing sound of the appearing Yiga soldier rousing him from his sleep. He squeezed his eyes shut to avoid the images that would come next. Fire. Bodies. Steel on steel. The warm insides of a man spilling forth from an open wound. But they came. He had hoped to have forgotten, but one does not forget such things; one only stores them away. 

“Link?” 

Link turned to see his father looking thoughtfully at him. Lennon had been so busy the past few months he had hardly stopped to notice the changes that had slowly blossomed in his son. He was taller, leaner. Though he still displayed his usual boyish nature, there was a seriousness underlying him now. He could see it in his eyes, particularly in that moment as he stood still over watching the building of the camp. He looked a million miles away. Lennon wondered what enduring memories his old soul may be sharing with him. 

“Father?” he asked, more formally than usual. 

“Yes, son?”

“Can I carry my sword like you do?” 

“Why would you need to?”

Link turned to look at him then, a deep emotion tinting his eyes that looked foreign on his usually amiable face. 

“Just in case” he muttered. 

“I think you’ve more than proved you’re capable, Link. Of course” 

“Thank you,” he said, his face holding a gentle smile as he strapped his sword to the worn leather of his belt. 

\---

The night carried on peacefully. One of the soldiers brought out a stringed instrument and played soft melodies to harmonize with the crickets and the other creatures of the night. Link closed his eyes and imagined the music drifting over the hills, entering the dens of little field mice, lulling their babies to sleep.  _ I wonder if animals like music,  _ he quietly mused to himself. 

His father sat down gently beside him and placed a warm bowl of stew in his lap. He cupped the warm bowl gladly, relishing the way its heat soaked into his cold hands. They had left Zora's Domain on the cusp of winter. Bitter winds were beginning to drift down from the frigid Hebra Mountains, coating the lower lands of the Kingdom in a soft chill. Link looked at his father bathed in the light of the campfire, the hard lines of his face tossed in shadow. He wondered if he would grow to be strong and capable one day, or if he was destined to forever be the small boy in his father’s heavy shadow. 

“Something on your mind?” his father asked. 

Link looked away, gazing across the hills before him. They would be back at the castle this time tomorrow. There would be no more swimming with Mipha or playing with Bazz. Only training with the other boys, who were bound to have surpassed him in skill by now, he was sure. He thought of Edward, the nasty dark haired boy who had cornered him in the castle hallway. He imagined Edward heads taller than him, bringing a sword down on him in anger.  _ I bet he’s still angry,  _ Link thought,  _ I bet he stored all his anger away and waited for me.  _ Then he thought of the Yiga soldier, his curved sickle tearing through Sir Thomas’ chest. The thought made him shiver.  _ Am I brave enough now to save him like he saved me?  _

“No,” he lied. He didn’t want his father to know his fears. Knights had to be brave. If he were to be a knight, he had to keep his fears locked away where no one could see them. 

Lennon breathed deeply and leaned back on his hands. 

“You should get some sleep, we will be heading out at first light so we can make good time to the castle. Your mother is waiting on you,” he gestured behind him with his head and Link turned to see his mother sitting in the open flap of their tent, eyes fixed on the two silhouettes in the moonlight. 

Link sighed and stood, feeling on his hip to make sure his sword was still there. 

“Goodnight,” his father said, but Link made no reply as he slowly walked towards his mother, leaving Lennon to fill in the gaps built by his silence. 

“Come here, my love, why do you have that strapped to your belt?” she questioned him as he began to slowly come into focus before her, noting the little sword that dangled at his hips. 

He looked down at his sword and back up to her, but let his eyes wander off to her side instead of answering. He didn’t want to explain to her why he had it. 

“It will be uncomfortable to sleep with that strapped to you, come now and let’s rest” she said, reaching to unclip it from his belt. But he stepped back before she could reach it, a pleading look in his eyes. Her heart flipped at the sight of him, a seriousness resting on his features that she hadn’t quite seen before. 

“Link?” 

He lay beside her, facing the opening of their tent and closed his eyes. She nestled behind him with a sigh and draped an arm across him, gently pulling him closer. His periods of silence sat on her like some heavy boulder, slowly crushing her. She wanted to shake him and release whatever was holding him captive on the inside, but she knew him well enough to know that would only hurt both of them. She held him close, praying that whatever burden had strapped itself to his heart would leave him and enter her instead. She would carry anything for him. She closed her eyes and prayed her new prayers for his safety. That night, she would also pray for his happiness. She prayed that prophecy would not forget that he was still a boy underneath his duty. She prayed until she fell into a deep sleep. When her heavy, even breathing graced his ears, Link opened his eyes. He slowly slid from her grip and crawled out of the tent. From his vantage point, he could see his father leaned against a tree, guarding the slumbering camp. He sat cross legged outside the door to his mother’s tent and laid his own sword across his lap. 

_ If they come this night,  _ he thought,  _ I will be ready.  _

He sat in quiet repose until the sunrise crawled across the great fields before him, ushering the Kingdom back to life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is quite short, but I needed a transition for what happens next. There are a few happy chapters left before it turns dark. Just a heads up there.


	11. The Festival

The castle was brimming with life like Link had never seen before. People were everywhere, shifting around like a colony of ants, more pouring out of each corner and alleyway with every passing moment. Some were stringing garland across walkways, others were ushering large platters of food to and fro, men carried bundles of wood, children ran giggling through the streets in packs like small dogs playing old games and making new ones. Link stood close to his father in the barracks and watched. 

“We haven’t had a celebration like this in years,” his father said, “Actually, in 5 years to be exact. When they announced the birth of the princess” 

“Where did all of these people come from?” Link asked as he watched a group of men erect a new, polished goddess statue in the middle of town. 

“People from all around the castle are welcomed in during festivals,” Lennon explained, “Our princess is well loved. Did you know that she carries the blood of the Goddess? It is the reason the day of her birth is called Hylia’s day”

Link looked at his father in confusion. They had always celebrated Hylia’s day back in Hateno with a town feast and dance. He had never known it was because of the little golden princess that he got to feast on sweets and dance for the entire day. It was his favorite day of the year. 

“The blood of the Goddess?”

“Yes, it is passed down the female line of the royal family. Princess Zelda really is quite special” 

Link hummed in agreement when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Sir Thomas was dramatically leaned against a vendor’s stall, running a hand through his hair and smirking at the lovely lady behind the counter who was trying to sell flowers. Lennon seemed to notice the young knight at the same time and scoffed, folding his arms in front of him. 

“There he is bothering poor Eleanor again,” he breathed, “Link, why don’t you go save her from him? Tell him you have some important quest for him”

“What important quest?”

“I trust you can make one up”

Link smiled and ran through the crowd, using his small stature to his advantage as he tucked around moving legs and slid under carriages. 

When he neared the two, he could hear Eleanor’s giggles as Sir Thomas was recounting their adventure with the lynel in a very animated fashion, using his whole body as a prop. 

“Ah! And there is the young lad himself, in the flesh! Come here boy!” Sir Thomas cheered across the courtyard, “I was just telling lovely Eleanor here about how you took down a lynel!” He slapped a playful blow across Link’s back, causing him to stumble forward. 

“Oh Thomas, you tease! Look at him! He is just a little thing!” she laughed and Link noticed how rosy her cheeks were. 

“Oh, my sweet dove, you wouldn’t be the first to underestimate him. This one here is quite talented, aren’t you Link?” Sir Thomas said with a wink.

“Well I did have to save you after it knocked you over,” Link explained. 

Eleanor’s hands went to cover the smile that flashed across her face as Sir Thomas began to stammer. 

“Well, uh, you see, I don’t think you saw the entire event go down, I was only reaching down to retrieve my sword. It never knocked me down, you see-”

“Thomas, I do believe you left that part out of the original story!” Eleanor chuckled.

It was Sir Thomas’ turn to flush pink as he scratched the back of his head and shot her a sheepish smile that she seemed to soak up with her own. 

Eleanor, whose face was speckled with tiny freckles, leaned across the counter of her cart and placed a beautiful crown made of flowers upon Link’s head.

“Thank you, brave little knight, for saving my dear friend here,” she smiled. 

He smiled back at her as he gingerly touched the flowers upon his head. He could smell their sweet perfume wafting around him and feel the petals intertwining with his messy hair. 

“Oh, he is just the sweetest little thing, Thomas, look at him!” Eleanor beamed, jumping slightly, her tight auburn curls bouncing with her movements. 

“Yeah, yeah, I look at him all the time,” Sir Thomas joked, “He is just so  _ sweet”  _ he mimicked, a devilish grin overtaking his face as he playfully kicked at Link’s shins, almost causing him to fall down. 

“Hey!” Link squeaked, rubbing his leg and shooting a sore glance at the mischievous knight. 

Sir Thomas’ face then lit up for a completely different reason and he stooped down low to whisper to Link. 

“Hey, speaking of 'little knight', can you escape your old man for a few minutes and come with me to the barracks?” 

Link’s eyes widened at the prospect of a secret castle adventure. 

“Of course,” he grinned. He was supposed to pry Sir Thomas away, after all. He supposed letting him pick his own mission couldn’t hurt. 

“Follow me, then” Sir Thomas whispered before standing to face Eleanor again, “As always, lovely time darling, but we must attend to some men’s business. I’ll see you later?” 

“I’ll meet you in our usual spot,” she winked and for some reason, Sir Thomas’ face blushed a bright red as if he’d just gotten up from sitting near a campfire. Link wondered what it meant to have a usual spot with someone, but he didn’t feel like asking. 

“What is our business?” he asked as he was quickly shooed away from the flower stand, a strong hand guiding him through the crowd by pressing gently into his upper back. He felt like a barrel of food being pushed into a cupboard. 

“Patience, boy” 

So he was patient. He let Sir Thomas push him like a lost puppy through the throngs of people that seemed to be swimming from every corridor until they came upon the barracks at last. Sir Thomas knelt down in front of him and looked him in the eye, seriousness painted thick across his face. 

“Are you ready?” he said, dropping his voice. 

Link was confused, but answered “yes” despite himself. 

Sir Thomas slowly pushed the door open and Link peered inside as if he expected a horde of monsters to charge him the moment his body entered the doorway. But there was no horde of monsters. Only a very small gathering of his father’s men. His favorite knights, if he were honest. In the presence of his father, all the other men treated him with the same respect they would another member of their crew. However, there were only a select few that extended that courtesy beyond Lennon’s watchful eyes. Most of them ignored him, seeing him as nothing more than a spoiled Captain’s son. A very small number would deliberately be hostile towards him, if only in a passive aggressive manner; whether it took the form of hitting him just a little too roughly behind his father’s back during training, or consciously shoving into him while walking, just enough to knock him down. Link had learned quickly to avoid those men and to not let their actions bring him to anger.  _ You cannot control the actions of others,  _ his father had said,  _ you can only control how you respond to those actions. Your response is what separates you from them.  _

But these men that were gathered here, a handful of lower soldiers and higher ranking officers, were men of good will. They extended a hand when he fell, helped him fine-tune his skills, and saw him as an equal, despite his age. They understood Link for what he was and didn’t fault him for what he wasn’t. Many among them had witnessed his defeat of the lynel and looked to the boy in awe now. Their presence filled Link with a warmth that he had rarely found outside the comfort of his family. He only hoped he deserved their kindness.

“Come forward, boy” a familiar voice chimed in. Link looked for the source of the sound and found Alistair, the man who had been wounded by the lynel. Though his wounds were now healed, he still sported a nasty scar from the electricity that had coursed through his body. Link thought it looked like some slender creature creeping up his neckline. 

“Please come forward,” Alistair said, and Link felt obliged to obey. 

Slowly he made his way to stand before the gathering, each man nodding him reassurance when he thought to steal a glance their way. 

“We now call on Link to come before this court and company,” Alistair began, slicking back his hair and putting on his deepest, most courtly voice. 

“Fellow men, now before you comes Link, son of Master Lennon, eater of many meals, captor of many unfortunate insects and other small beasts, survivor of the waterfall, and destroyer of lynels. Never mistake his size for his ferocity nor his tenderness for his strength ” 

Link’s face flew through a range of emotions. At first he thought to laugh, then he felt the sincerity behind the man’s words. Though they were heavy, it was not an unwelcome weight. He kept his eyes firmly on Alistair’s as he continued to speak. 

“Young Link, have you undertaken to accept the accolade of Knighthood that is being offered to you?”

Silence. 

Link blinked once. Then twice. Then he looked around the room. They were looking at him with expectations and a hint of a smile in their eyes. 

“Me?” he whispered. 

Sir Thomas let out a loud laugh behind him, “Of course _you_ boy, who else are we talking to?” 

“I’m not a knight”

“Not with that attitude you aren’t!” Alistair chimed in.

Link wasn’t sure if his body belonged to him in that moment. He felt everything and nothing at all. He looked around the room. Light was lazily lapping through the small barracks windows, a slight breeze picking up the ancient and tattered curtains that no one ever seemed to repair. He could hear people behind the walls. Talking, laughing, teasing, coughing, shouting.  _ Am I awake?  _ He thought. He looked at his hands. They were his hands. The same lines he traced over and over again with quiet fingers when he couldn’t sleep. He had memorized their patterns and curves. He looked up and swallowed.

“Yes” he declared, trying to summon the bravery he knew the moment deserved. 

A smile cracked across Alistair's face as he straightened in his chair.

“This greatly pleases us. Bring forth the sword”

An elegant sword wrapped in soft cloth was placed in Alistair’s hands. He carefully unwrapped it, the metal glinting even with the minimal sunlight in the room. It was the kind of sword that was only ever looked upon and never used. The kind of sword that was more than a weapon. Sir Thomas eyed the weapon with a question in his eyes that Link could not decipher. 

“_What? _They’ll never know. I’ll put it back,” Alistair laughed and Sir Thomas joined him.

“You’re a bigger fool than I thought, Alistair. I love it. Please, continue”

Alistair cleared his throat with a deep cough and looked back at Link, who had been motionless throughout the whole exchange. 

“Link, son of Lennon, you have been deemed fit for this high estate by your peers, and have indicated your willingness to accept this honor from our hands. Do you now swear by all that you hold sacred, true, and holy that you will honor and defend the Crown and the Kingdom of Hyrule?”

Link’s blues met Alistair’s deep ambers when he strongly said, “I will”

“That you will honor, defend, and protect all those weaker than yourself?” Alistair continued.

Link stood straighter and closed his eyes. He imagined himself draped in ceremonial armor, much older, much stronger, much wiser. He saw the King, the Queen, and even the tiny Princess. He felt each word as it was stacked upon his heart. He knew he was strong enough to carry them.

“I will” he said.

“That you will be courteous and honor your peers. That you will conduct yourself with dignity and bravery, only drawing your sword for a just cause. That you will enshrine in your heart the noble ideals of the Goddesses and give yourself to the land of Hyrule?”

Link opened his eyes and looked around at the men. Their faces were painted with pride. He could feel it as if it were touching his skin. Warm. Strong. Swift. Encompassing. He felt a new power surge through him that he had only felt in his dreams. 

“I will”

Alistair stood then and straightened his uniform. He gestured for Link to kneel. He did. 

“Then having sworn these solemn oaths, know now that we, the mightiest knights in this Order of Chivalry, by right of arms, do dub you with this sword, and by all you hold sacred, true, and holy…”

Alistair raised the beautiful sword and dipped in gingerly down to touch upon each of Link’s shoulders. 

“Once for honor….”

Link felt the metal of the weapon. It was cool even through his clothes. Each touch of the sword was like a promise - sending electricity through his veins. 

“Twice for duty…”

He felt himself shiver under the weight of it.  _ I am strong,  _ he thought.

“Thrice for courage. Arise, Sir Link!”

Link stood. When he finally lifted his face from the floor he felt the tears that had pooled in his eyes run down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away and tried to hide his sniffles in his sleeve. Brave knights did not cry. He didn’t know why he was crying. He wasn’t sad. He was farther away from sadness in that moment than he had ever felt. Yet the tears kept coming. 

“ _ Mightiest knights in this Order of Chivalry,  _ huh? Is that the official line?” Sir Thomas laughed behind him as he walked forward and put a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

“It is now,” Alistair smiled before looking at Link, “What’s wrong boy?”

Link wiped his face and shook his head.

“Nothing”

“Out with it, boy!”

He looked up at Sir Thomas and then scanned the room again. He squeezed his hands together until he felt his knuckles cracking. He was always looking for some physical release for his feelings, but nothing ever felt right. 

“Am I really a knight now?” he said so softly that Sir Thomas had to lean forward to hear him.

“To us, yes. To the King? Not yet. But your day will come, I promise you. Link, you are destined for greatness. That much is clear to us. You are braver, stronger, and faster than any boy your age ought to be. But you’re also kind and giving and selfless. If you weren’t meant to be a knight, I’ll eat my boots,” Sir Thomas explained, kneeling down to look him in the eyes, giving him the respect he would another knight.  _ Because I am a knight,  _ Link thought, the words enough to breath new life back into him. He felt the pool of tears in his eyes cease to flow. 

“And we just want to be on your good side for when you’re grown and strong enough to pulverize us all,” Alistair added with a grin.

Link smiled then, feeling the last of the tears change directions as they left their cool trails across his warm skin, curving around his smile.

“How would you cook your boots?” 

Sir Thomas threw his head back in an other full body laugh, throwing his arms up in the air as well. 

“We take it all back!” he laughed, “We must have been mistaken!”

Link joined the men in their laughter. He saw the way they looked at him. They were  _ proud  _ of him. They thought he was worthy. They wanted him among them. These men weren’t his family. They had no obligation of kindness or love for him, yet here they were, freely giving it because they felt he deserved it. He felt his heart trying to crawl from his chest to join them. He had to swallow it back down. During their laughter he tugged on Sir Thomas’ sleeve, who knelt down beside him. 

“ _ Thank you,”  _ he whispered. 

Sir Thomas clapped the boy on his back, but this time he did not sway forward. This time he stayed firm.

“You’re welcome,  _ Sir Link”  _ he replied. 

It felt right when he heard it. 

* * *

Night fell heavy upon Hyrule Castle like a great slumbering beast, but the innumerable lanterns and the cacophony of life in its many courtyards and alleyways was fighting the winning battle. Though it was well past nightfall, no one dared go to sleep in fear of missing the events all around them. Especially Link, who tried to dart through the crowds at any given opportunity, though he was safely tethered by his mother’s hand. 

“Mother,  _ please,”  _ he begged, pulling at her arm with just enough strength to get her attention, but not enough to hurt her, “I want to see everything and you going  _ so slowly I might die” _

Ellia clicked her tongue and raised an eyebrow at his dramatics, unswayed. 

“I’ll never find you if I let you go,” she said, kneeling down to eye level, “you’ll find a new home in some dark alley with the castle rats and I’ll wake up one night to you trying to steal our cheese,” she teased him. 

“ _ Mooooom,”  _ he whined, “I promise I won’t get lost. I promise I’ll find you before they let go of the lanterns.” Link had learned long ago that is mother’s greatest weakness was his eyes. He opened them as wide as he could, pleading soundlessly with their endless depths. If he looked at her just right, he could see her resolve melting. 

“Oh,  _ alright _ ,” she groaned, letting go of his hand momentarily before snatching it back just as quickly, causing Link to groan in frustration.

“They will ring the bells before they begin the ceremony. I’ll wait for you outside of the secret courtyard and we can watch together from the tower, alright?” she tilted her head to watch him as he soaked up her words. Link was never one to break a promise. His word was as true as any knight’s. 

“Promise,” he smiled and she let him go again, before jerking him right back a second time.

“You forgot something,” she smirked as he watched him grumble to himself at having been caught a second time. He may be quick as lighting in training, but she was still his mother and could anticipate him like the rain. 

“What?” he sighed, knowing he was trapped. 

She kissed him softly on the forehead and then turned him around, patting him on the backside with both hands and shooing him away. 

“I love you, you wild thing,” she called after him. 

“Love you too!” he called after her, already lost in the crowd. He wasn’t sure if she had heard him or not. She had. 

Link darted through the crowd like a dragonfly across the water. He felt like he was swimming in a sea of people, each current a new arm or leg he had to wade through, some more accommodating than others. After many “excuse me” and “sorry”s, he found himself on the stretch of road that had been reserved for food vendors. Wooden carts and wagons lined the sides, their delicate smells lifting and combining into the air. Meat, apples, spices, bread,  _ sweets.  _ He pushed his way to the front line of one cart and tried to peer over the counter, though it came eye level to him. The elderly woman running the cart spotted the pair of blue eyes peering over the edge and followed them curiously as he scanned her array of sweets. 

“And who is this little thing eyeing my sweets?” she laughed. 

“What’s that one?” the blonde head asked, raising an arm over the counter to point at a crescent shaped pastry that was glazed in white. 

“That one there is what I call a Jacob’s Moon,” she replied, shifting to where she could see his face more clearly. His mouth was as eager as his eyes, though he made no motion to snatch the treat like some of the other castle town children had. He was the picture of patience, nodding to encourage her to tell more about the sweet as he tasted it with his eyes. 

“My little Jacob loved baked apples. So I used to bake them into these little crescents for him so he could carry them on the road. He had a sweet tooth, that boy did. Could eat a whole basket in a day if I let him,” she reminisced, closing her eyes at the memory. 

“What happened to him?” Link asked, sensing the woman’s stillness.

“He grew into a fine man and joined Hyrule’s Army,” she said proudly, making eye contact with the boy who finally chose to rest his eyes on her face over the sweets, “we lost him some years ago clearing out a Lizalfo camp. He held them off so the other men could flee”

“He was very brave,” Link said, nodding to the woman, whose face had softened as the grief that had flooded her again came to subside. Time had taught her how to fight the sudden swells of sorrow that his name would bring. 

“Yes, he was,” she said, smiling at the boy, “You know, you remind me of him. He had blue eyes too”

“So does my mother,” Link replied, “she says we are water from the same sea”

“Your mother is a lucky woman to have a sweet little thing like you,” she said, reaching for one of the pastries and offering it to him, “Here, take this. Jacob would want you to have one”

Link met her eyes again before looking at the treat. He wanted it. But he didn’t feel right taking it after making her sad. 

“Here, child, you may have one,” she offered again.

He gently took the treat from her old hands and looked up at her once again.

“Thank you,” he said, “I’m sorry to have made you sad”

“Quite the opposite, child. Speaking of him brings him back to me. To know he will now live on in your memory as well brings me great joy,” she told him. 

He smiled up her and she felt peace settle on her old soul. As she watched him puzzle his way through the crowd, she somehow felt she would see him again one day.

* * *

Link happily munched on his array of sweets as he sat perched on one of the castle walls that he had scaled. He watched the crowds beneath him weave around like a moving tapestry- each person a stitch contributing to the overall design and communal happiness. He wondered what it would be like to be a giant peering into the castle and picking up whole food carts and sliding their contents into his mouth. He giggled to himself at the thought. He heard a small sound to his right and sat his bread down to investigate. It was a tiny sound, like one leaf rubbing against other, but he had heard it and now he wanted to know where it had come from. He crawled along the section of the wall as stealthily as he could to follow it. He had seen it briefly, or rather the tail of it.  _ It’s a lizard _ , he thought,  _ I need to catch it _ , said that small part of his brain that always housed the desire to catch small creatures, though he never knew what to do with them afterwards. He moved on pure instinct as he tracked the poor reptile around a bend in the wall before lunging forward and cupping the creature in his hands. What he hadn’t planned for was that his lunge had taken him off the wall and now he and the lizard were tumbling down into the garden below. He hit the ground with a small thud, refusing the lose his prize between his fingers. 

He stood up by pushing against the ground with his elbow and shook the hair out of his eyes.  _ Oops,  _ he thought,  _ I’m not supposed to be here.  _

He knew exactly where he was because he had fallen into this garden many times before. It was the Queen’s private garden, elegantly landscaped with a variety of flowers, many of which were foreign even to Link’s keen traveled eye. He looked around in hopes that he had not been seen. He heard them before he saw them. He tried to hide by shuffling back into flowers, but his failed attempts were met by muffled laughter. 

“Who is this wild thing that has fallen into my gardens?” the voice was elegant, golden, and heavy. It seemed to drip like honey into his ears. 

He looked up and saw the Queen standing before him, draped in regalia like he had never seen before. She shone brighter than the moon. Behind her, wrapped around her legs, was the Princess. She sported very similar garb, her long blonde hair braided in a crown around her head. She eyed him with a very different expression that he couldn’t place. Somewhere between curious and frightened. 

He felt the lizard trying to wriggle free in his hands. It tickled, but he held back the laugh.  _ I’m in big trouble,  _ he thought. He tried to smile apologetically at the Queen, who laughed at his attempt and knelt down before him. 

“I’m not cross with you, little one, what do you have there?” she asked, pointing at his hands. The very quiet princess tried to hide her face in her mother’s skirts. The Queen turned and brought her forward with a steady arm wrapped around her small body. She settled herself in between them, resting her head on her mother’s collarbone as she tried not to be interested in the boy before her. 

Link had never been so close to the princess before. Though he was two years her elder, they were very similar in size. He tried to catch her eyes as they peeked from her mother’s neckline. They were green like fields of grass. When their eyes met, she quickly tucked her face away and the Queen brought a calming hand to her back. 

“Don’t worry about her child, she’s had a long day,” the Queen sighed, holding Zelda closer to feel her warmth. Link couldn’t know about the argument that had occurred that morning that Zelda had overheard. The yelling. The throwing of plates. How the King’s voice had boomed across the castle as he proclaimed that she would begin her rigorous religious training at once and the Queen’s quiet insistence that she be allowed a childhood, that five years is just not enough to start pleading with Goddesses for powers she couldn’t possibly comprehend. He couldn’t know how Zelda had cried all alone in her tower when their voices found her. How tired she was from the nightmares that came for her that she didn’t understand. He didn’t know any of those things because he hadn’t been there. But yet, he could feel her sadness like it was his own. He felt the melancholy settle upon his heart like an old dove and he wanted to reach out and touch her too, but he knew he couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed. So he didn’t. 

“Link!” another voice chimed in, this one very familiar. He looked behind the Queen to see his mother shuffling into the gardens. She stopped mid stride when she noticed the Queen and dropped into a formal bow. 

“Pardon me, Your Highness, I must apologize. He was supposed to meet me  _ outside  _ of your gardens, not within, I am so -”

“Please, rise,” the Queen said as she stood herself, Zelda still clinging to her skirts, “He has done no harm, please do not worry yourself”

Link’s mother then fell into another long winded apology as he took a gentle step towards the Princess.

“Hello,” he said, cocking his head to the side as she turned to face him, face half hidden in the blue fabric of her mother’s gown. 

“Do you want to see?” he asked, holding his cupped hands out for her. 

She made no response other than a slight shift in her eyebrows that Link didn’t catch. 

He gently opened a crack just large enough for the lizard to poke his head through, startling the princess into a quiet fit of giggles that flew from her mouth like a flock of birds directly into Link’s heart. He did not understand why he liked the sound of it so much. He had heard laughter before. But he had never made  _ her  _ laugh before.  _ This is silly,  _ he thought. 

The Queen waved off Ellia’s apologies before the sound reached her ears. A sad smile blossomed across her face as she looked down at their little exchange at the edge of her skirts. 

“Oh, I am so-” Ellia started, but the Queen raised a hand.

“Watch them,” she commanded. So Ellia did. 

“Is that a lizard?” Zelda asked, voice so quiet it threatened to float away with the wind. 

“Yes!” Link beamed, holding it closer to her. 

“What kind is it?” she asked him, slowly peeling herself from the fabric she had been clinging to. 

“Um, a brown one,” he replied, making Zelda smile. He suddenly felt warm again, like he had just gotten out from underneath a heavy blanket. She was confusing to him. Everything she did caused his body to react in unusual ways, but he was compelled to make her do it again. 

“Can I hold it?” she asked, voice growing bolder. 

Link eagerly nodded as he held his hands out to her. 

“Oh, Link, don’t-” Ellia tried to interfere, but the Queen laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“It is fine, let them play,” the Queen said kindly and Ellia let the tension she had been holding in her shoulders go, causing them to slump, a breath she didn’t know she had been holding slowly escaping her lungs. 

Zelda wrapped her hands around Link’s and he shivered at the contact before slowly loosening his grip, transferring the little creature to its new cage. 

Zelda giggled when as it wiggled between them and Link’s face lit up with a smile so broad it hurt his cheeks. The lizard, sensing it’s new captor was much gentler than its previous one had been, pushed hard against Zelda’s hands and broke through her fingers, causing her to squeal as it leapt from her hands. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I lost it!” she cried, turning to face him, eyes already rimmed in tears. 

“It’s okay!” Link said, gently tucking her hand into his now that he knew he could, “now we can catch it again!”

Zelda looked up at him through her tears and if Link looked close enough, he could see that she was smiling, if only barely. She let him lead her away from her mother and into the gardens where their voices floated across the flowers in hushed, playful whispers. 

“That is the first time she has let go of me all day,” the Queen sighed, slowly sitting on the fountain behind her, motioning for Ellia to sit as well. Ellia carefully sat beside her Queen, suddenly very self conscious of her every movement. 

“Please relax, darling, you are among friends,” the Queen said, trying to soothe the woman’s fears with a gentle pat on her knee and a reassuring nod. 

“Thank you, Your Highness”

“He is quite special, isn’t he?” the Queen said as she watched him lead Zelda around the garden on tiptoes, careful to show her how to climb through the hedges without snagging her skirts. 

Ellia sighed and folded her hands in her lap. She felt the dread begin to build inside her.  _ I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to talk about this.  _

“Yes, Your Highness,” she flatly replied. 

The Queen turned to her then, with eyes that told of empathy that Ellia hadn’t expected to see. She reached across her lap and held Ellia’s hands in her own before looking up to meet her eyes. 

“Please, I meant what I said. You are among friends. You may call me by my name, Theia. I was a person before I was a Queen, you know. What may I call you?”

“Ellia,” she replied softly, gently squeezing her hands.

“I understand more than most, Ellia. That pain you carry when you look at him. It is the pain I feel every morning when I wake to find Zelda next to me after another nightmare. She is so young, she can only describe to me the things she understands, but I sense there is much more that is haunting her that she cannot unburden to me,” Queen Theia said softly, now looking down at their hands. 

“She has been silent all day and will not tell me what is bothering her. Yet your boy can pry her from my side with a lizard and smile,” she laughed dolefully.

“Link always meets a friend,” Ellia replied as she watched him so carefully maneuver her around the garden, “But, if I may, how did you _ know _ ?” she asked cautiously, lifting her gaze to Theia’s solemn face. 

“I commune with the Goddesses, Ellia. I knew him the moment I saw him training when you first arrived. I knew him like a whisper across my heart. They know each other too, though they do not know it yet,” she gestured at Link and Zelda who were playing around them, oblivious. They were now seated on the ground, Link bending and snapping twigs into some sort of makeshift box while Zelda peered over his shoulder, something cupped in her hands. 

Ellia grimaced as the first tears cascaded down her face like a broken promise.  _ I said no more tears,  _ she scolded herself. She knew it to be true, but to hear it from the  _ Queen  _ was a fresh wound all together. This time the grief came swift like a cut from a blade. She sucked in a quick breath, stuttering and turning from the Queen as she wiped her eyes. 

“I pray for him now, Ellia. I pray for them both,” the Queen whispered as she lay a gentle hand upon her back. 

“ _ Thank you,”  _ Ellia breathed the words, but they made very little sound. 

The sound of bells filled the air around them, bringing everyone in the garden back to attention.

“Your boy has brought laughter back to her, if only for the night. For that, you have my gratitude. He has a kind heart, Ellia. You have done well, rest in that,” she said before rising from her seat, “Zelda, darling, come now, your Father will be waiting for you to begin the ceremony” 

Zelda looked up at her mother before looking back at her new friend. He was small and kind of scruffy, but she was fond of him nonetheless. He looked up at her with those eyes that were impossibly blue as he raised the cage he had made into the air before her. 

“Oh, I almost forgot! It’s your birthday!” he said, his smile illuminating his whole face, “Happy Birthday! It’s for the lizard, so you can study it without it running away again”

She opened the little door of the cage and popped the lizard in. Link had somehow known how to make the gaps in the sticks just small enough to trap it inside. She thought that was very smart of him. She took a step away before quickly turning back and planting a feather light kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you,” she smiled as she walked towards her mother, leaving Link red faced and motionless as the Queen and Princess exited the gardens. 

Ellia walked up to where he stood staring after them and took his hand in her own.

“Let’s go watch the lanterns, my love,” she said.

He looked up to her, face half lit by moonlight.

“Mama, I think the little princess is full of magic,” he whispered.

“I think you are right,” she replied as they walked together out of the garden, hand in hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theia is from Greek mythology, meaning "divine" or "goddess". I felt she needed a name. Also, this one is really long, but I just got on a roll and kept going and it felt wrong to cut it in half. 
> 
> I imagined they celebrated Zelda's birthday like the lanterns for the lost princess in Tangled, if you were wondering what the ceremony was like. I always loved that visual of the lanterns floating from the castle. 
> 
> What do you think so far?


	12. The Dreams We Share

The festival came and went like a thunderstorm, leaving Hyrule Castle drowsy. It took weeks to clear the debris from the streets from the extra insurgence of people that it had drawn in. More than once Link found himself picking up trash from the cobblestones and asking for payments in pastries or other snacks. The shopkeepers were happy to oblige him. He filled his pockets. It was all he wanted. 

It was on one such occasion that he bumped into a familiar face. A tall, stocky boy with limp black hair that eyed him from the corner as he knelt under a carriage to untie torn ribbons. The boy approached him with a scowl. Link had his back turned as he was picked up roughly by the neck of his shirt and forced to stand. 

“What...oh,” Link stuttered when he righted himself and looked at the person who had so rudely lifted him from his chores, “Are you Edward?”

Edward glared at him through his greasy curls.

“You remember me, don’t you, you little fool,” Edward snarled. 

Link wondered how it was possible to stay so angry after so long. He imagined Edward kept his anger bottled inside him like some thick, vile liquid that magically replenished. He wondered where it was coming from and how to stop it. He wondered specifically what it had to do with him? He thought if must be a terrible thing to hold inside. 

“Um, yes, I do,” Link replied.

“I tried for weeks to join the guard, but everyone laughed at me after you beat me. You made me look  _ weak.  _ But they don’t see you for what you are.  _ You’re a cheat,”  _ Edward growled, taking a step forward. Link thought to step back, but he didn’t. Brave knights aren’t scared of boys like Edward. 

“I am not,” Link said, planting himself firmly before the boy who seemed to tower over him, his eyes no doubt assessing how easily he could break a few bones. 

“Then fight me again, you hedge-born twat. I won’t lose this time,” Edward smirked. 

“Okay” 

“Training yard in 10 minutes. Meet me or I’ll find you”

* * *

A tall, elegant woman wrapped in shrouded clothes walked along the ramparts of the castle above the training yard. Her alabaster hair was pinned tightly in a high bun with two long wisps hanging loose on each side that were floating in the slight wind. She carried herself with dignity, dark eyes roaming the area before her for shadows. She was a shadow too. If she didn’t wish to be seen, she would not be. She had intended to speak with the Queen, but now was watching the spectacle down below. She had seen the two boys meet in the middle. She assumed it was some type of game and her curiosity had gotten the better of her, causing her to stop her purposed trek to watch them. But she was wrong. They began to square off and she raised a skeptical eyebrow. What did that tiny boy think he was doing fighting a boy twice his size?

She quickly learned her doubt had been misplaced. She was transfixed by his movements. Calculated.  _ Swift.  _ He was there one moment and gone the next. He made it seem as if the larger boy was fighting himself. She made her way down the long walkway, stalking the shadows around the dirt ring.

“Hit me, damn it!” the larger boy screamed.

“I don’t have to,” the smaller boy replied calmly, dodging another swing, “I bet you are much stronger than me, but I am faster. You can’t hit me if you can’t catch me”

This ignited a fury in the larger boy. His insides rumbled like Death Mountain, face reddening as if he peered over the crater itself. His sword was lava in his hands. He lunged at the smaller boy with everything he had left, only to lose him again, causing him to lose his footing and stumble into a stack of boxes before him. He fell in a heap, breathing fast and constricted, eyes narrowed in disdain. The smaller boy stood before him and offered a hand. An opportunity. He grabbed it as if it were his last defense, jerking his body hard, head butting him directly in the face before shoving him backwards. The little boy fell hard on his backside, hands covering his face. She had seen enough.

“What is the meaning of this?” the shadow exclaimed, causing both boys to jump. They had not noticed her presence. 

“Just...sparring,” the little one replied nasally as he tried to stem the blood that was pouring from his nose. He had one eye pinched tightly closed, the other was rimmed in tears from the blow. 

“What of you then, boy? What do you say this is?” the woman turned to the older boy who had quickly stood to brush himself off. 

“Nothing, miss,” he said to the ground. It was then she realized he recognized her. He must be a Castletown boy. She did not recognize the smaller one. 

“What are your names?” she asked them. 

“Edward”

The little one swayed slightly as he turned his head.

“...Link”

“Edward, you fight like a hinox. You waste your energy in your anger. You are clumsy and slow. You think you can swing a sword and your enemy will stand by and let you do it. You are wrong. You must always think a step ahead. Go. Find some other way to release your anger,” her voice was sharp and commanding and required no answer. 

Link thought he saw tears in Edward's eyes, but then again, it may have just been his own tears. He hated getting hit in the nose. He wiped his eyes again but Edward was gone, only a puff of dust in his wake. 

“Now, Link, let’s take a look at you. Rise,” the woman said, offering a hand. He took it. 

She knelt before him and lowered his hands. Blood was smeared across the lower portions of his face, eyes rimmed in red from the impact. A small slit on his upper cheekbone showed her where the force had hit hardest. She tilted his head with a finger below his chin. He obeyed. 

“This will black your eyes, but otherwise, you will live,” she explained. 

He nodded. 

“Many boys your age would be a crying mess about an injury like this”

He looked away briefly before returning, “I’ve had worse”

For a moment they stood silent and just looked at each other. He was young, but his spirit, she knew, was old. She could feel him in her bones. She narrowed her eyes and he did the same. 

“Do you know who I am, boy?” she asked him.

He took a moment to ponder her inquiry. His eyes darted to the ground, the sky. She briefly wondered what it was he was looking at, if anything at all. He glanced around her into nothing but it was as if he was looking for  _ something.  _ It puzzled her. He puzzled her. She liked him. He was a mystery and she never turned away from a mystery. 

“I don’t think so,” he finally replied. 

“I am Master Impa. Military adviser of the Sheikah. I live in Kakariko. Do you know what we do in Kakariko? Do you know of the Sheikah?” 

He slid his tongue across his lips and tasted the blood there. He wondered if it was on his teeth. 

“No”

“We are shadows,” she whispered, and to the change in her voice, he leaned in closer, “Come train with me and I’ll teach you to walk without sound. No one will ever know your presence until you will it” 

His eyes slightly widened at the prospect and he whispered in return, “Where?”

“One day, boy. I’ll find you again. And when I do, you will be a force unlike anything this land has seen. I promise you that”

He nodded and watched her stand. 

“Now, you may want to go clean yourself up. Best not to wear your weakness across your face for the world to see,” she said as she left him, his hands automatically going to his face once again. 

He closed his eyes to tried and and hear her, but he could not. When he opened them again, she was gone. 

* * *

Sometimes, when the moon was highest in the sky, Link would slink from under his covers to stand on their balcony. The way it was situated, it looked directly across the secret courtyard and faced the tall tower that was home to the little princess. He wondered if she liked being kept in a tower all alone with only a guard at her door to keep her company. He glanced around his own space, eyeing the two silhouettes huddled together in the bed behind him and smiled. He liked their small space. He liked being together. He thought the princess must be lonely. Occasionally, he would see the outline of her peeking out from her own windows in those hazy hours just after midnight when no one but scared princesses and little knights who couldn’t sleep were still awake. He watched her shape in the window until the ghost of sleep finally found him, pulling him down as if he were sinking to the bottom of some great lake. After catching it's first prize, sleep drifted across the sleepy courtyard to find the princess in her bed, little hand clutched around a book of fairy tales. 

_ The castle is a monolith to the landscape. The trees shrink away, seeming to sink back into the hollow ground at its insistence. The castle is moving. Billows of sinewy, ebony, smoke unfurl from beneath it. How is it lifting the castle? What is that sound? A crack across the stonework sends the princess’ tower tumbling to the ground like a tossed dinner plate, spewing its contents across the courtyard, making a mess of it. The flowers won’t bloom now. They have been crushed. There is no going back from this.  _

_ The sound rips again across all of Hyrule. Everything seems to hear it. A wolf tucks her cubs safely into their den, positioning her body in front of the entrance. Squirrels tuck their little heads back into the trees. Even the birds take flight, all flying in the same direction. Away. There are no people in Castletown now. There is only the sound. But what is it? Someone is crying. Someone is screaming. No. It is everyone and no one at all. They are all screaming. There is no mouth to form the sound, it tears out of every surface. _

_ Everything is red now. The castle burns into the skyline. Smoke. The smoke is alive. It curves around the castle, chipping away at it. The castle bleeds everywhere it is touched. They are still screaming. They aren’t screaming words. If pain was a sound, you would hear it in Castletown. They are saying we have failed them. **Look what you’ve done.** Hyrule Castle is lost to the smoke now. There is nothing left. Only pain and the smell of copper. Two ravens sit upon the shattered edge of the drawbridge. When they look at you, all you see is red. The red in their eyes is moving. They fall to the ground. They must be dead too. _

Link was breathing too fast in his mother’s arms. He was scratching at his face in his sleep, pushing on the bruises pooling under his eyes. Ellia pulled him into her as if she could swallow him whole and take the pain. But she couldn’t. She could only hold him and whisper lies in his ears that it would all be okay, praying he would believe her. Lennon knelt before them. He held Link’s arms down with a strong hand. It took more effort than he thought. 

“Link,” he said. 

But he did not wake. 

“ _ Link,”  _ this time he shook the boy and his eyes flew open. 

Lennon released the tension in his lungs as he held them both, Link trying to catch his breath between them. He could feel the smoke filling him up. It was burning. He turned into his mother’s chest, gasping into the thin fabric. Ellia could feel his breath catching in his throat. She rubbed his back. They stayed that way for a while, huddled together in the twilight, bathed in silence, none of them daring to move. 

“We never told your father about Toshi,” she said quietly. Link took a deep breath and settled into her lap. Lennon sat back so he could study her face. It had been too long since he’d looked at her.  _ Truly  _ looked at her. He wondered how he could have missed the pain there. The hollow under her eyes. The paleness of her skin. She smiled at him. She was crying effortlessly. Naturally. How many times had she cried without him there to comfort her? He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. She was cold. Link was still breathing fast. 

“One night, Link swore to me that he heard something outside. He begged me to go investigate, but it was winter and I told him it wasn’t worth letting our heat out to open the door,” she began, closing her eyes. She could almost see him. He was littler then. She had swallowed him in one of her sweaters to try to keep him warm. His nose was red, but his eyes were blue and pleading. 

“But you know how he is. He doesn’t let anything go. So we put on our boots and went outside in the middle of the night in the middle of winter,” she laughed. It was small, but it was helping.

“You could have gotten sick,” Lennon said into her hair, brushing a loose strand behind her ear, “or taken by wolves. They get desperate in the winter, you know” 

“But we’re still here, aren’t we, Link?” she asked and she felt him nod his head against her. She held him closer. His breathing was slowing now. 

“We searched all around the house but didn’t find anything. My toes were starting to get numb so I told Link we had to go inside. But he  _ insisted  _ that we keep looking. So we did. Link led me around the yard until he stopped at the wood pile. That’s when I finally heard what he was hearing,” her voice was quiet, but the room was still. The only thing moving was the steady up and down of their paired breathing. 

“What was it?” Lennon asked, tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder. 

For a moment no one spoke. A log crackled and settled deeper into the fire in the hearth. Somewhere down the hall a door was shut. 

“_A kitten_,” Link whispered. 

Ellia smiled at his voice. 

“Yes, a little orange kitten. Probably just weaned from its mother. It must have crawled inside the wood pile for warmth and gotten stuck. I thought it would run away as soon as we freed it, but it let Link pick it up. It must have been so cold, the poor thing. But you saved him didn’t you, my love?”

Link hummed in agreement and closed his eyes. He remembered the kitten. He liked the way it curled into his collarbone. He liked the way it smelled. Like outside. He liked the way its body vibrated as it purred against him. 

“_I saved him_,” he whispered. Ellia gave him a gentle squeeze.

“Where is it now?” Lennon asked. 

“Link raised it to be a wild thing of course, but it would come back every now and then and drop some poor dead creature at our doorstep. He’s probably sitting on our woodpile right now, waiting for Link,” she smiled at the thought of home. 

Lennon sat up and released his family from his grip. He looked down at Link, who had fallen into a much more peaceful slumber now. His face was red and tear streaked and he could see the faintest scratches across his cheeks from where he had grabbed at his face. He hands were wrapped lightly around Ellia’s hair. Something he had done since he was an infant. The thought of it bruised his heart.  _ Some things never change. _

“Do you want to go home, Ellia?” 

She looked up at him and placed a hand on his cheek.

“This is home,” she breathed. 

He sighed, leaning into her touch. 

“As long as we are together, we are home”

He tried not to wonder how long it would last. 

\---

While Link’s family held each other in their small chambers, the Princess bolted from her doors, pushing the sleepy guard to the side. He tried to call out to her, but she was gone before his mind had cleared from the slumber he had found himself in as he leaned against her doorway.

Zelda could run these hallways in her sleep. Inside her mind was a map of the castle and all its secrets and intricacies. She knew all the hidden passageways, the doors hidden behind tapestries, the statues that doubled as door handles to doors that weren’t supposed to be seen. Nothing was hidden from her. She nimbly found her way across the castle in the darkness to where she knew her mother would be. She found her there, tucked away in a quiet corner, silently praying instead of sleeping. She had been doing that a lot lately.

“Mother,” Zelda’s voice was broken and raspy. She had woken in a frenzy, heart hammering against her ribs, images of black and red and  _ horror  _ raced across her vision. 

“I’m here, my love, come to me,” her voice carried across the room like the steam from a cup of tea. Warm. Comforting. 

They found one another in the middle of the room. Two golden beacons of light merging to one. 

“What did you see,” the Queen placed the words softly in her daughter’s hair, which had come unbraided in her fitful sleep.

“Smoke. It was hurting me. They were mad at me,” she cried.

The Queen shushed her and tucked her tiny frame close against her own. 

“No one is mad at you”

“I don’t know what I did. What did I do wrong?”

Queen Theia, who communed with Goddesses, who possessed the very essence of wisdom, was at a loss to interpret the dark visions that had been plaguing her child. All she could do was hold her in the moonlight and listen as her fears turned to the silent sorrow that she had resigned to carry on her own. She rocked the little princess until the sun cracked across the waning sky.

“Do you think that boy caught anymore lizards?” Zelda whispered. 

The Queen smiled sadly, thanking the Goddesses for the workings of a young mind. Distraction, at least for now, was attainable. 

“I bet he’s caught every lizard from here to the Hebra Mountains”

“Do you think he would share with me?” Zelda asked, looking up at her mother who seemed to have the faintest glow that was particularly noticeable in the mornings. The Queen looked down at her and placed a kiss to edge of her hairline.

“I know he would”

The thought made Zelda smile.

* * *

Link walked slowly beside his mother on their way to the market, contemplating every small thing that caught his eye on the way there. A loose stone, an oddly colored bird, broken glass glinting sunlight across an old barrel. But what he noticed most was the amount of people who were coughing. Every few steps he seemed to hear the rattle of someone’s lungs or a raspy exhale. Ellia took his hand and held him close, looking down at him every so often with that look reserved specifically for worried mothers. One that saw danger in every wisp of wind and crack in the ground. He wasn’t sure why she would be worried for him, he was not coughing. But she held him closely all the same.

Link watched curiously as his mother exchanged hushed conversation with the baker where they bought their bread. He couldn’t catch their words, but the way their foreheads wrinkled and eyebrows lifted told him the story was not a good one. He wrapped his hood tightly around his shoulders as a brisk wind whipped through the alley. He felt the shiver start in his shoulders and rattle all the way down to his toes, which were going cold in his boots. 

“Are you cold?” Ellia asked him, looking down on him again with that same look of concern. She seemed to wince when he sniffled and shook his head, some stormy emotion clouding her eyes. She shared a look with the baker, who only offered an empathetic nod, as she whisked him away from the stand with a firm hand on his upper back. 

“Let’s go home,” Ellia said, pushing him back towards the castle. 

“But father said I have to-” 

“I’ll talk to your father, we’re going back to our chambers,” her voice was firm, dripping with finality. 

“But it’s only just morning, what will we-”

“We will study that book about knights we found in the library. Remember that one? The one with the beautiful illustrations? You’re not reading near enough as it is” 

“But Sir Thomas said he would teach me how to do a spin attack!” Link replied, clearly disappointed at the prospect of reading all day instead of training. 

“I said we are going home to read and that is the end of that!” she snapped at him. 

Link briefly stopped walking before he dropped his gaze to the ground. She could feel as his hold on her hand tightened. She gently tugged him forward and they continued their trek back to the castle. 

“Yes, mother,” he said quietly from underneath his hood. 

Ellia closed her eyes and sighed before pulling him up close to one of the castle walls and out of the crowd before kneeling before him. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. He was upset with her. 

“Link,” she said firmly, shifting her face to get a better look at him. He was dutifully scanning the rocks below his feet. 

“Link, look at me,” she said again, and he lifted his face to meet hers. His eyes held a hardness that he tried to hide, but she saw right through him. 

“Listen, I know you’re upset with me. I know you don’t want to stay inside all day and read, but it’s not...safe to be out right now. I’d rather you be inside with me,” she tried to explain. 

“Why isn’t it safe?” he asked, now confused. He looked around. There were no monsters or Yiga. Though the sky was a little gray, he figured it had much more to do with the cold rather than any upcoming storm. 

“I can protect you if it’s not safe, you know I can,” he said and the slight hint of a quiver in his voice broke her heart. 

“Oh darling, it’s not that. I know you can. But this isn’t something you can protect me from,” she said softly, tucking a stray piece of his bangs back into his hood and pulling it tighter around his shoulders. 

Before he could reply, a noise behind Link startled them both. A weary looking man with ashen skin and a loose, slightly bloodied cloth wrapped around his face had stumbled into a carton of apples, causing it to topple over and spill across the street. The woman running the shop shot up from her place behind the counter and began to scold him, but her insults fell deaf on his ears. His body seemed to fold in on itself as he slumped to the ground, his fall accentuated with hollow gasps. He did not move once he hit the ground and the echo of his fall tumbled across the walkways, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. 

Ellia pulled Link to her, but quickly decided that carrying him would be faster than answering his questions about their swift escape. She slung an arm around his waist and lifted him into the air. He wrapped his arms around her neck as she sprinted back to their room in the castle. She prayed they would be safe there, at least. He watched the town fly by from his perch on his mother’s shoulder, blurring and blending into a mess of gray and blue before he gave up and closed his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the way he moved up and down with her movements. It had been awhile since he had been carried. He had missed it. 

Ellia plopped him down on their bed after shutting and locking the heavy oak door behind her. He stayed still and watched her. She paced the room a few times before suddenly turning and locking the shutters to their windows as well. Link thought she looked like a dog pacing in a kennel.

“Mama,” he said, bringing her back to attention. 

She stopped and looked at him sitting peacefully on the bed, hood half around his shoulders, nose pink from the cold, eyes half closed in confusion. He held his own hands in his lap. His feet barely touching the floor. 

“Is it the cough?” he asked. 

“It is,” she replied, sitting next to him. 

He looked up at her before leaning against her, keeping his hands neatly folded in his lap. 

“Can we read the book now?” he asked. 

The hint of a laugh escaped with her smile as she leaned over to kiss him on the top of his head. 

“Of course” 

* * *

That night, Lennon and Ellia’s hushed but heated voices cut through the oak door that separated Link from the rest of the castle as he lay, bundled in thick blankets near the hearth. 

“Only until it passes, Lennon, please, you’ve seen what’s happening out there,” Ellia pleaded. Her voice sounded muddled through the wood. Link flipped to his back to stare at a new place on the wall, as if this portion would entertain him in ways the others had not.

  
“It’s not safe. The number of reports we’ve been getting from attacks on the road are steadily rising. I will not risk your safety,” Lennon was stern. Link imagined the lines across his forehead that folded together when he was angry, the way his eyebrows furled, like two fighting caterpillars. 

“And we’re safe  _ here?” _

“We are safer together!” 

“And what about when you fall ill. What then? You’re out there everyday in the thick of it. You will bring it home to the both of us,” her whisper was sharp. 

Then it was quiet. The sound of a chair scraping the floor. A sigh. Fingers tapping wood. 

“I’ll send you with a few men. Stay a few days, no more. Bring back what you can. But Ellia…” 

Soft footsteps. Another sigh. The creak of the floor. 

“Just...come back to me. Both of you...I’ve…” Link had never heard his voice so small. He briefly wondered what his father was like when he was a little boy like him. Was he soft then, too? Or was he always strong?

“I will, I promise,” she breathed into the curve of his neck. 

They said nothing else that he could hear. Link lay and watched the dancing shadows of the fire until he finally drifted off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little weird with the back and forth and the short sections, but I liked the pacing. I wanted to draw that parallel between Link and Zelda. I love the idea that their lives, though vastly different, still mirrored in some aspects.  
Hope you're enjoying the journey still. Leave a comment and let me know. I love to hear your thoughts.


	13. Remember Me

Ellia, Link, Sir Thomas, and a few lower foot soldiers huddled together at the east gate of the castle awaiting Lennon’s instruction. Link toed the dirt with an idle foot as Ellia paced the length of the gateway. He appeared through a throng of people, a cloth wrapped tightly around his bottom features while a dark hood obscured the upper portions. Even disguised as he was, Ellia knew it was him. She knew his walk like she knew her own. He briskly approached them, but stopped before he reached them completely. Ellia closed the distance, gingerly placing her hands on the sides of his face, sliding the cloth down so she could kiss him. Link made a show of grimacing at the sight, silently turning and sticking out a tongue in a feigned gag in Sir Thomas’ direction. Sir Thomas raised an eyebrow and gave Link a wink, who rolled his eyes. 

Lennon approached Sir Thomas and put a strong hand on the younger man’s shoulder. 

“That’s my whole family you have there, Sir Thomas,” he let the words come slow and heavy. Sir Thomas felt every letter as if they crawled into him of their own accord. 

“Yes, sir”

“They are to go to Hateno, stay three days to pack what they’ve left there, and return to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir” 

The men held eye contact for a brief moment before Lennon broke the tension with a quick, but firm hug, clapping him on the back for good measure. 

“Good luck, son” 

Sir Thomas nodded. 

Lennon knelt down in front of Link and took a good look at him for the first time in several weeks. He had been so tied down with the stricter training regimen King Rhoam had put in place and attempting to contain the spread of illness in lower Castletown that Link was often asleep when he arrived back to their chambers well into the early morning hours. Ellia had finally convinced Link to keep his unruly mop of blonde hair at least tied back at his neck as he was still stubbornly refusing to have it cut. Lennon oddly missed his wild tousled look. He smiled at Link’s bemused expression as he continued to stare. 

“Take care of your mother for me, will you?” he said, locking eyes with him at last. Something flashed across Link’s face that he hadn’t seen in his son before. Was it fear? Determination? Confusion? A mixture of all three? Link’s smile faded as he firmly nodded his head. 

“Always”

“Come here, boy” Lennon sighed and pulled him in for a strong hug. It had been too long since he’d taken time just to hold him. He closed his eyes and remembered the first time his son had been placed in his arms, tiny and whimpering. How he rooted his face against his chest. How he smelled like something brand new. How his grip was so strong around his finger, despite how tiny his hands were. They would often lay the tiny baby down on their bed just to stare at him. The wrinkles across his forehead, the way his belly would grow tight after eating, the way his toes curled and stretched as he yawned, the deep blue of his eyes that would settle to the shiny sapphire they still were. 

_ We made that, _Ellia had said. 

_ Together, _he had replied. 

Link wrapped his arms around his father and squeezed, burying his face against his chest. He didn’t want to say goodbye to him. For Link, goodbyes were whole seasons and missed holidays. He may say goodbye in the blossoms of Spring only to be reunited when the trees were barren and snow covered the hills like heavy blankets. Sometimes when he was younger, he would forget his father’s voice. He would close his eyes, so tightly he could see galaxies of his own making, in an attempt to hear his father again. But the only voice he heard was his own. He had grown used to his father’s constant presence since their move to the castle. He was loathe to give it up again. 

“I love you, son” Lennon whispered to him. 

“Love you, too” he replied. 

Lennon lifted the boy with a huff and placed him before his mother on her steady mare. He held onto Ellia’s hand until the gentle beast pulled her forward, forcing them apart. 

_ I love you, _ she mouthed to him. 

He hoped she wouldn’t see the tears that brimmed his glassy eyes. 

_ Love you, _he mouthed in return. 

He watched until their shapes were dwarfed by the landscape, then he watched a little longer, some part of him yearning to run after them. But he did not.

* * *

Ellia saw the shape of their old home coming into focus in the distance like some gentle beast rising from the earth. When she closed her eyes she could hear him. When she opened her heart, she could see him. Link. Much younger. Running on legs that just learned to walk, a puff of dust in his wake, some innocent and frightened creature trapped in the confines of his little hands. His voice, small and pillowy, soft and quiet. Finally speaking real words after months of incoherent jabbering.

“Got it, Mama” he babbled, “Oh no!”

The creature leapt from his hands and suddenly he was even smaller. She would never admit to having a favorite age, but if she were honest with herself, this was it. He stood barely taller than her knees. When she held him, he would fit perfectly against her, sitting on the curve of her arm, head laying on her shoulder. He needed no one else but her. He looked to her for comfort, for care, for love. She was his world and he was hers. His father would come and go like the seasons, but she was his constant. When she looked into his eyes, she saw the best version of herself. _Why me, _she silently prayed, _why us, why him?_

A hand on her arm broke her from her thoughts. 

“Look! We’re here!” she heard him say, turning to face him in his current state. She tried to fight the melancholy that suddenly claimed her. She knew she couldn’t keep him young forever. She couldn’t shield him from his destiny. She couldn’t stop him from growing taller, leaner, sharper, stronger. But she couldn’t fight the feeling that she would somehow lose him. Even just the thought of it splintered her from reality. It was inconceivable.

“Yes, I see,” she replied as calmly as she could, dismounting from her horse to enter the threshold for the first time in so many long months. Everything was exactly where they had left it with only a slight film of dust to indicate their absence. Link’s bed was still unmade, their dishes from their last supper together sitting dry in the wash basin. She sighed and plopped herself at the kitchen table. Sir Thomas eyed her nervously from the doorway. 

“You are free to find an inn or tavern, Sir Thomas, we are safe in our own home,” she told him, noticing as he took up guard in the doorway. 

“Thank you, Ellia, but I’m fine,” he replied, leaning against the outer wall.

“Sir Thomas,” she stood and walked to him, placing a calming hand on his elbow, “I haven’t had a quiet moment at home with my son in two years. I promise you we are safe. The inn is right down the road. We will be fine” 

He locked eyes with her before looking at Link, who had already climbed the apple tree out front. He sat happily perched on a branch, mouth full of fruit as he dangled his legs and hummed, seemingly contented to be back at home. 

“I will check in from time to time, just to be sure,” he said.

“Of course,” she smiled and dismissed him with a wave as she turned to walk towards Link. 

She sat beneath the tree and listened to the gentle crunching of the bark beneath his feet as he scaled even higher. 

“Do you think we could make a pie?” he asked, looking down at her, his face in shadow as the light from the high noon sun played in his hair, “You know, from all the apples”

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” she answered, using a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked up at him, “You’ll have to stop eating them though, if you want to have enough”

His laugh lifted from the tree like a lazy dove as he began to drop the ripened fruits to the ground. They were soon followed by the heavy thud of him dropping himself to the ground before her, a particularly plump fruit imprisoned between his teeth, a smile in his eyes. 

“Bring them inside and you can help me,” she smiled at him and she rose from the ground, straightening her skirts. She watched in amusement as he pulled up the bottom hem of his shirt, using it to hammock the apples so he could carry them all in one trip. _ Clever little thing, _she thought to herself as she watched him. They walked together into their home. 

As Ellia sat at their old wooden table with Link across from her, eagerly cleaning up the apple skins by plopping them into his mouth, she was overcome by memory once again. So many memories were held in the grains of that old table. She traced the lines of the old oak and closed her eyes. 

She found that mornings with him had always been her favorite. Particularly the mornings after he had actual slept instead of mumbling or singing to himself all night. He would tumble out of bed, a mess of wavy blonde, and crawl into a chair at the table where she would offer him a steaming cup of tea and a little pot of honey to sweeten it with. She knew he would always sneak more than he was supposed to, no matter how stealthy he attempted to be. He would plunge the honey dipper to the very bottom of the jar and hold it aloft before him, watching as the thick amber dripped from the end. There was always a sticky trail from his cup to the honey pot from his impatience. She would lean back and watch him, eyes of aquamarine studying the way the thick sweetness thinned and dissolved in the hot liquid. He was always so observant. 

“Is it ready?” he asked, breaking her from her thoughts again, pointing to the now constructed pie before them. 

“I believe it is,” she said as she walked it towards the old oven at the rear of the room. 

They spent the afternoon snacking and sorting through chests of their things, piling their belongings, sorting by importance. What would be kept and what would be left behind. It was harder than she thought it would be. 

“Why are you keeping this?” Link asked, holding up a very small shirt to his chest, “I can’t wear it anymore”

“You wore that on your second birthday. I stayed up all night sewing it for you and you spent all day running around in the rain and mud. It took me days to get it clean again,” she laughed, remembering how Link had slipped and slid all the way down the hill in front of their house, laughing the whole way down, turning the bright yellow tunic a very dull brown. 

“But why keep it if I can’t wear it?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as he always did when asking a question. 

“Certain things hold memories. Our memories are what make us who we are,” she tried to explain, but she knew his mind was too young to comprehend such sentiment. 

“Would you forget about me if you didn’t have that to help you remember?” 

She paused her movements and looked up at him as he sorted through the numerous bags of trinkets he had hidden beneath his bed. A seashell. A broken teacup. An old ring on a string. A pressed flower. All items that had held some piece of his heart at one point in time. She wished she could see them through his eyes. She wondered what memories he had attached to them. 

“Of course not. There are things our hearts would never let us forget. Things so ingrained to who we are that they become a part of us,” she assured him, folding the tiny tunic away and placing it within the confines of the small box she had allowed herself to send back to the castle.

“I forget sometimes,” he said quietly as he turned a smooth chunk of luminous stone over in his small hands, “I forgot about that day” 

“You will always remember what’s important to _ you _,” she reassured him, “That memory was important to me. It is okay that you have forgotten. Tell me, what story does that stone tell you? You’ve been eyeing it an awfully long time” 

“I found it on the beach that one day. That day he surprised us,” he began, lifting the stone up to the light, a small smile lifting the edges of his mouth. 

“That day your father came home when we didn’t expect him? That was three summers ago. You still remember that?” 

“Yes,” he grinned, “I saw a funny looking rock on the edge of the beach and he told me to whack it with a stick. It shattered into lots of tiny pieces. He gave this one to me and told me it was my treasure. He said it was magic. I used to hold it when I missed him. When he was gone a long time…” his voice trailed off and he took one last look at the stone before putting it in his pocket. 

“We’ll be together again soon,” she tried to soothe him, but his eyes held that far off look that overcame him at times. She knew he would often shrink back into the confines of his own mind to comfort himself in times of discomfort. It was a mannerism that had grown up with him, becoming more evident the older he became. She wanted nothing more than to run to him and hold him, but she knew better. He would come back when he was ready. Slowly, he turned his head back to her and smiled.

“I smell the pie” 

“Let us go check it”

Night brushed it’s gentle fingers across the fields of Hateno, sinking the little white cottage into a stilled darkness. Ellia sat at the table with a freshly bathed Link before her. She tried to tease the tangles from his damp hair with her fingers while he traced the wood grain of the table before him, humming a lullaby. They both turned at the sound of the door creaking open.

“Ellia?” Sir Thomas’ voice crept into the open space as he peeked his head around the door frame. 

“Yes, Sir Thomas?” 

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yes, quite. Thank you. We are just headed to bed,” she said as Link fidgeted beneath her. 

“I’m stationing a man outside your door tonight. I’ll be in town. Send him if you need anything,” he explained with a nod. 

“Oh I hardly think that’s necessary, please let your man rest,” she sighed as she yanked at a particularly stubborn tangle. Link yelped in protest.

“Oh hush,” she gently scolded him, “brave as you are, I would think a little tangle wouldn’t bother you”

Sir Thomas stifled a laugh and Link shot him a glare. 

“It is only duty, my lady, you understand,” he said as Link stuck his tongue out at him. 

“Oh, alright,” she sighed, “But do try not to make a fool of yourself at the tavern tonight, Sir Thomas. Wouldn’t want word getting back to sweet Eleanor, would we?” she added with a sly grin.

Sir Thomas flushed a shade of crimson that brought great joy to Link, who giggled in his seat. Now it was Sir Thomas’ turn to glare. 

“Of course not,” he said in his most knightly intonation, “have a good evening” 

“Good night, Sir Thomas!” Link smiled at him as he slowly shut the door.

When Ellia was satisfied with her work, she turned Link around to look at him. 

“Now, we have much to do tomorrow. It is time to rest” 

She shushed him before he protested and led him to his small bed beneath the stairs, tucking him tightly into the warm blankets. 

“Would you like a story?” she asked him as she lay a hand on his stomach, reminding her of its permanent home there when he was an infant, always checking for the up and down to ensure he was still breathing. She had been so nervous those first months of his life. 

“Will you tell me about the princess and the knight again?” his voice was small and muffled beneath the covers, only his eyes peering out from above them. 

“Of course, my love”

She let her voice carry him away as it always did, feeling as his breathing slowed beneath her, watching as he blinked himself to sleep. When she was sure he was truly out, she placed a gentle kiss to his forehead and crawled in bed beside him, folding herself up so that she would fit on its small frame. She draped an arm across him as she too let sleep take her away. 

* * *

Link awoke to an odd sound. Like someone dropping a sack of vegetables hard on the ground right outside their door. His eyes fluttered open. Another sound. A brisk whirl of wind. A wind chime. A grunt. Before his vision could adjust to the dark, he felt a hand across his mouth. His body jolted in the direction of the hand. He briefly relaxed at the sight of his mother kneeling by his bed, but stiffened again at her stance. She was scared. She held a finger to her mouth with her free hand and released him. His eyes were full of questions but she only shook her head and gestured to the door at the rear of their home. He followed her silently, slipping through the narrow crack in the door as to not cause a noise from the rusty hinge. 

“_Run, _ ” she whispered desperately to him, “_Run to Sir Thomas at the inn” _

He was tired and frightened and confused and refused to let go of her hand. 

“Why-”

The Yiga soldier appeared before them suddenly, the wicked red Sheikah eye glimmering in the moonlight as he slashed forward with his sickle. Ellia crashed into Link, causing them to tumble backwards to the ground. All the air was pushed from his lungs as she put her full weight on top of him, but she was gone as fast as she had come. The soldier grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her off of him with such force, she could feel that some of it had ripped from the roots. Her scream broke the heavy silence.

“Link, _ run!” _

He stood from the ground, coughing and trying to clear the dust from his eyes. His mind was spinning before it stopped at the sight before him. His mother struggling in the arms of the now laughing Yiga soldier. He had pinned her arms behind her as she clawed at him. He brought the sharp end of the sickle to rest at her neck, the wicked blade glinting in the moonlight. The Yiga took notice of Link and pushed the blade further into her skin, causing a warm line of blood to flow and pool at her collarbone. 

“What are you going to do about it, _ little hero," _he taunted. 

Link felt electricity pulse in his veins. His eyes narrowed, jaw clenched so tightly he may have shattered his own teeth. He took one step forward before tumbling hard, face first into the ground below him thanks to the boot of another Yiga at his back. The boot dug into the rear of his neck as he lay sputtering on the ground, shoving his face into the loose dirt, filling his nose and eyes with dust. He could hear his mother’s cries as his heart took up residence in his ears in the form of panicked thumping.

“Let him _ go!” _she screamed, desperately pushing against her captor, who twisted her wrists and yanked her closer so he could whisper in her ear. 

_ “You’re going to watch as we cut those pretty little eyes from his head” _

She felt her stomach lurch forward as the strength left her knees. The Yiga held her up by her hair. Her screams turned to garbled sobs as the Yiga’s blade pushed further against the sensitive skin around her neck. _ It can’t end like this. _

Link was again lifted roughly from ground, only to be slammed back down, leaving him breathless once more. They were toying with him. The Yiga’s laughs echoed across the hills. Ellia suddenly cursed having picked the house on the outskirts of town. 

“On second thought, maybe I will let you go,” Ellia’s captor said with a wicked grin as he released his grip on her wrists. She tumbled forward but gained her bearings, kicking up dust as she sped towards Link, screaming his name. He barely had time to clear the obstruction from his eyes when he saw her fall again, this time with an arrow jutting out from one of her shoulders. She gasped as she hit the ground and the now three Yiga circled around them like a pack of starving dogs.

When Ellia looked up at Link her face was marbled red from crying, the pale skin of her neck stained scarlet with her own blood, some of which had come to leak from her now busted bottom lip. Despite her state, the only thing she saw was him. The only thing he felt was _ anger. _His body began to shake, eyes narrowed as he shifted his focus to the Yiga who were playing with them like a cat plays with its lunch. He had had enough.

_ Take care of your mother for me, will you? _His father’s voice echoed across his heart. 

The first Yiga fell with a smile still on his lips. None of them had seen him move. Thoughts no longer passed the threshold of Link’s mind. Only movement. The long remembered motions of lives he’d never lived. He killed the first Yiga with his own blade and turned to the second before the body had fully slumped to the ground. The curved blade ran naturally across the throat of the second soldier, the warm rain of his blood spattering across the delicate curves of Link’s emotionless face. He couldn’t feel his own heart beating anymore. There was only the weapon in his hand, heavy and disturbingly comforting. A strangled cry caused him to spin around. The last Yiga had his mother back in his grasp. 

“So it’s true,” the Yiga spit at him, “the Goddesses are really desperate these days, aren’t they?”

Link took a step forward. His vision focused. Hateno crumbled around him. He could see the Yiga in every detail. The brushstrokes of the scarlet paint adorning his masked face. The wrinkles around his collar. His shuddering breaths that betrayed his fear. He took a confident step forward but the man did not waver. He only tightened his grip. 

“Make one step and I’ll shower you with her insides,” he sneered. Ellia trembled beneath his grasp, tears running clean lines down her bloodied and stained face. 

“_Go, Link,” _her voice was frail and raspy, eyes pleading. She could see the blood that decorated his face and clung to his hair. Not his blood. Her body shuddered as another sob escaped her. Link stared ahead, face empty of expression except for his eyes which were narrowed and focused. Ellia almost did not recognize him. 

“Yes, child. _ Go. _Run away like the coward you are,” the Yiga growled from behind Ellia, emphasizing every word by further twisting Ellia’s arms, causing her to whimper in pain. 

Link lunged forward but skid to a sudden halt as he watched in horror as the Yiga dropped his sickle and pulled a dagger from his boot in a motion so fluid it was almost unseen. The dagger found its home more than once in the softness of Ellia’s stomach, the pale fabric of her dress swelling and soaking with the deep crimson of her blood. It was then that Link felt his courage abandon him all at once like a snuffed out flame, leaving him weightless and dizzy. He felt the howl that escaped his body but he did not hear it. Ellia dropped to the ground and the Yiga surged forward. Link made no attempt to block his attack. He closed his eyes and waited for the blade to rid him of the images that were now burned into his shuddering mind. He heard the Yiga fall before him and opened his eyes. Sir Thomas stood some distance off, barefoot and bare chested in the moonlight, an arrow still knocked on his bow, the warmth of his breath fogging before him in the brisk winter wind. He ran to where Ellia lay face down in the grass, flipping her over in his lap. 

“Oh, Ellia,” he sighed heavily, head dropping before lifting again. Link still stood ahead of them, his small body trembling, eyes now rimmed thickly with tears, his earlier courage and strength now forgotten. He dropped the sickle in his hands and fell to his knees before her. 

“_Mama,” _he whispered, hovering his hands above her broken body. She weakly lifted a hand and placed it on his cheek. 

“_Link,” _ she sputtered through the blood pooling in the back of her throat, “_sweet boy” _

He began to cry in earnest then, his chest heaving with the weight of it. Sir Thomas put a hand on his shoulder, feeling his own tears trail down his cheeks. 

“Get up,” he cried, “Please get up. _ We have to go home _” 

Ellia felt the darkness pulling at her as she bled out in the grass behind their home. She thought of the woman cloaked in light. Her prophetic words. She wondered who would tell him. Tell him he wasn’t just a little boy from Hateno. Tell him he would never live a normal life. Tell him his life was not his own anymore. Tell him he was a tool of Hyrule, to be used and discarded. She had hoped to do it herself. To paint the words with love and kindness in an attempt to soothe the pain it would bring him. But she was too late now. She ran a shaky thumb across his cheek as he cried for her. 

She used what little strength she could find to push her last thought into words. 

“_Love you” _

Though her eyes remained open, she could no longer see. No longer feel the pain of the gaping holes in her abdomen. Her heart beat slowed until it too slipped into an easy slumber. Link’s last cry caught in his throat as her hand fell from his cheek. He stared at her open, unseeing eyes before looking down at himself. The warmth of the blood had long faded to an icy chill on his skin. It covered him. His face, his chest, his _ hands. _ He studied his trembling hands. _ What have I done? _

He slowly lifted his head to meet eyes with Sir Thomas, his breaths coming fast and unregulated. Everything that had slowed down the moment Ellia fell seemed to kick back into overdrive. His heart bashed against his ribs, his lungs screamed with every breath. _ Blood, blood, blood, blood. _ It assaulted his senses. The metallic scent coating his nostrils, putrefying in his stomach. _ What did I do, what did I do, what did I do. _

The curved blade that he still clutched in his hand seemed to heat by his touch, scorching his skin. He stood and threw it as far as he could, letting it go with a gut-wrenching cry. _ It's my fault. My fault. _ ** _My fault. _ **

Sir Thomas gently closed Ellia’s eyelids and slid her from his lap, standing to approach him, but Link slunk away at his approach, nearly tripping over the dead Yiga that lay motionless behind him. 

“Link,” Sir Thomas began carefully, “come here, little guy. Are you hurt?” 

Link’s eyes erratically scanned around him as his breathing began to quicken even still. 

_ What do I do? What do I do?! _

The Yiga lay dead behind him. The blood from his wound covered some of the eye on his mask, distorting it. He could almost still hear the laughter that lived behind that mask. 

_What are you going to do about it, little hero?_  
  
“_Link,” _Sir Thomas begged, “I’m_ so_ sorry. Please, come here” 

Link bolted past him into the tree line, leaving the shaken knight alone in the blood-soaked yard. 

Link ran without looking, racing through the thick trees and underbrush, tears flying from his pale face. He ran until his knees felt swollen and his feet screamed at him to stop. He ran until he felt he could no longer breathe, falling against the trunk of a large tree, curling himself in the empty spaces left between the ancient roots that jutted from the ground. He lay and gasped for air as he replayed the scene over and over in his mind. _ It’s my fault. It’s my fault. It’s my fault. _

His body shivered against the bracing winds that kissed his back. He wept until he vomited, nearly choking himself in the process. Sobs ripped through his chest until his wrecked body had had enough and he slipped into unconsciousness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot harder to write than I anticipated. It is very difficult killing a character, I have learned. I hope you guys stick with me as the story takes a darker turn.
> 
> Also, I'm a terrible editor. I tend to miss grammar and spelling mistakes because I read so much for content. I'm going to try to get better at editing those before I post. I know its annoying to see a typo.


	14. Adjustments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning before you read, this is very sad. If you're having a bad day, maybe read this another time.

Sir Thomas stood in repose, the cold wind running icy fingers across his bare chest, as he tried to process the scene before him. Hateno was safe. It was supposed to be safe. Why would the Yiga come here? Why would they target Ellia and Link? More importantly...who killed the other two soldiers? It didn’t make sense. Slowly the racing images in his mind fell into place. Ellia held by a Yiga soldier. A sickle in Link’s hand. Blood mixing with the freckles across Link’s cheeks. But Link...he wasn’t injured. Whose blood was on the boy?  _ The lynel,  _ he remembered.  How he had acted with unnatural speed and strength. _ Could it be?  _ He shook his head as the disbelief sank into the pit of his stomach. The boy was barely seven years old. But he was not an ordinary child, he never had been. _ Perhaps. _ ..the thought disturbed him too deeply and he shook it off. 

“Should we go after him, sir?” a voice came from behind him. The ruckus had woken his other men now it seemed. 

“No. Bury our man and the Yiga. As for Ellia...just wait for me. I’ll go after him” 

“Yes, sir. You may want this,” the man said, extending a jacket which Sir Thomas took gratefully, slipping inside it as he ran into the tree line. 

He followed the trail of broken dirt and foliage until he came to a stop near the base of a particularly large tree. He found him there, bloodied hands wrapped tightly in his own hair. His eyes, though they were now closed, were puffed and strained red from crying. He had nothing but his nightclothes. Both of them were barefoot. 

“Link,” he said, taking a tentative step forward. 

He did not answer. He lay silently on the ground, body quivering with every shaky inhale or rush of wind. Sir Thomas felt his heart clench. He had always seen Link as a friend. An equal. Though he shared in his youthful games and whims, he had never seen Link as particularly childish, as someone who needed caring for. He had always been in charge of himself. Now, curled in a ball in the dirt, he very much looked like a frightened child in need of comfort. It terrified him. He was not a father or a parent in any capacity. He knew what Link needed. He just wasn’t sure he could provide it. 

“Link, let’s get you inside before you freeze”

He turned his back to Sir Thomas, quietly watering the grass beneath him with muffled tears. 

Sir Thomas sighed and knelt beside him, tucking one arm under his legs and one behind his back. Link curled himself into his chest, his warm breath ghosting across the cold planes of his bare skin. Link wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, clinging tightly as if he were the only thing keeping him from falling into the abyss. 

“ _ Sorry,”  _ Link whispered, but the sound of his small voice was so dampened by Sir Thomas’ heavy breathing and the crunching of leaves underfoot that it went unheard. 

Thomas shifted Link so that his hand covered his face as they approached the rear of the yard. Link listened. Shovels. Grunting. A steady heartbeat in his ears. The snap of a twig caused his body to stiffen.  _ They’re back.  _ Sir Thomas held him closer, sensing his discomfort.

“ _ It’s okay,”  _ he whispered, “ _ You’re safe”  _

Safe. The sound of the word sizzled in Link’s ears.  _ My fault. My fault.  _ _ My fault _ _ .  _

Tears on bare skin caused Sir Thomas to shiver anew as he ushered the boy into the sleepy cottage, careful to lock the door behind him and the one at the rear of the house. He slowly untangled Link from around his neck and placed him on his bed where he sat and stared with his hands limp in his lap, eyes downcast to the floor. The young knight maneuvered around the house and lit the lanterns he found, bringing a candle to rest beside Link’s small bed. The small flame only lit half the boy’s face. He somehow looked even paler with the whisper of warmth across his clammy skin. His hair was matted to the side of his head with blood. Sir Thomas gently pushed his hair aside to reveal a thick cut from his temple to his forehead.  _ So he was hurt,  _ Sir Thomas thought. 

“Let’s...get you warm at least,” he sighed, mostly to himself. Link’s eyes were set firmly on the ground. He had made no motion to move since being sat on his bed. 

Link opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words crumbled in his throat. He lifted his head briefly to look at the man kneeling before him, but his vision was blurred by the steady stream of tears that seemed to have been flowing from his face for hours. He could easily mistake the bleary visage of a man before him for his father. The thought made his bottom jaw quiver. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” the familiar voice called out to him, “I’m just...going to light a fire and find you something warm to put on. I’m not leaving” 

Link managed a slight nod before laying down on his bed, curling into himself. He listened again. The creak of the floorboards. Someone coughing outside. Wind sneaking through the cracks of the door. His own breathing _ . Up and down. In and out.  _ He  squeezed his eyes shut.  _ She’s kneeling at my bed. Her hand is over my mouth.  _ Sir Thomas dropped a log in the fire. The dull thumping shot straight through Link’s heart and he jolted from bed with a yelp, bolting for the back door. 

“Hey!” 

Sir Thomas grabbed his arm and yanked him towards himself, firmly grabbing the shaking child by the upper arms. He was breathing fast again. 

“Look at me!” 

He did. His eyes were windows in a thunderstorm. Gray. Clouded. Holding back the turmoil held inside. 

“Link!” 

Link looked down at himself.  _ Blood. Blood on my hands. Whose blood is that?  _

His hands are leaves in the wind. He fears they may fall off his body at any moment. He almost hopes for it.  _ What have I done? _

_ “ _ What have I done? _ ”  _ his tongue finally formed the words that swirled like a tempest in his mind. His voice was raspy. Small. Broken. If Sir Thomas’ attention hadn’t been keenly focused on the child before him, he may have mistook it as a trick of the wind. But he heard every word. He released his grip on the boy’s arms and put his warm hands to the sides of his face, forcing his eyes forward. 

“Link,” Sir Thomas said firmly, pushing his chin up with a solid thumb, “you did nothing wrong. Do you hear me?”

Link trembled under his touch, melted against his stern glare. He felt like mud in the stronger man’s hands. He wished he would slip through his grip and slide to the floor. He wanted to disappear. He never wanted to be looked at again. He said nothing.

Sir Thomas pulled Link into an embrace he hoped would calm the boy. He didn’t know how to care for a child, much less one that had just witnessed their mother’s murder. Or one that had... _ No,  _ he thought, _we will deal with that later_. 

“Now,” he said, taking a sharp inhale to sturdy himself, “You’re freezing. Let’s get you cleaned up and find something to eat. The sun will be rising soon and we can…”

_ Bury your mother. Ride back to the castle and tell your father I let his wife and the mother of his child be brutally murdered, accept my punishment, renounce my knighthood.  _

He let his thoughts go unvoiced and Link didn’t protest. He went limp and began to shiver in his arms, fresh tears pooling in his tired eyes. Sir Thomas gently lifted him and pushed him under the covers of his bed, tucking him in how he remembered his own mother doing for him so many years ago. 

“Stay here,” Sir Thomas commanded. Link did not move. 

He pushed up from the boy and rummaged through the house to find Link something to wear that wasn’t covered in blood. He managed to scrape together a few items before filling a pot with water to warm over the fire. He felt himself numbing with the motions. He looked down at himself and grimaced. He was still barefoot. He kept glancing at Link, who was still lying motionless in his bed, before gently unlocking the door and stepping outside. 

“Hey, Brooks,” he called out, startling the young soldier who looked haggard as he leaned against the side of the small cottage, “Go to the inn and get my things, will you?” 

“Yes, sir” the young soldier replied with a salute, beginning his brisk walk across the yard before turning abruptly.

“May I ask something, sir?” the young man shifted on his feet, eyes shifting awkwardly to the rear of the house where the smell of blood still hung in the air. 

“Go on then”

“Did he...uh...did the little guy...who?”

Sir Thomas grimaced and gently shook his head, “Not now” 

The younger soldier nodded with a frown and took off back to town. Sir Thomas could see a small gathering of villagers just behind the bridge. He would have to deal with that later too. He closed the door and walked back to the stove where he dipped a washcloth in the warm liquid he had left to simmer there. The steam rose in thick ribbons, snaking across the ceiling of the small house before dissolving. He knelt beside Link once more.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and out of those clothes. We can...we need to...uh...we will have to go back to the castle,” he stammered as Link stared at the cloth in his hands before silently nodding and sitting up. 

Sir Thomas had never taken notice of Link’s appearance before that moment. But as they sat, softly illuminated in the first touches of the morning sun breaking through the night, he took him in truly for the first time.  _ He is so little,  _ Sir Thomas thought as he stared at the way he folded his hands in his lap, a slight tremor still running through him.  _ His feet don’t even touch the floor.  _ Link sniffled and Sir Thomas took a look at his face. Pale. Slight bruises were beginning to pool under his eyes, the residue of a bloody nose smeared across his cheeks.  _ He must have taken a hit to face.  _ One child. Two Yiga. Three sources of blood on the boy before him. And then... _ four.  _ He was covered in her blood too. 

“Can I? I mean...do you want to?” Sir Thomas held the warm washcloth out to Link who remained unresponsive. They sat in heavy silence before the sound of Sir Thomas' pained exhale break the air between them. 

Gingerly he began to rub the warm cloth across Link’s skin and through his hair. Neither spoke. Slowly the evidence of bloodshed muddled the clear water in the bucket at their feet. Link allowed him to clean his body and pull a thick sweater over his head. It scratched his skin. But it was warm. When he was done, Sir Thomas sat before the bed and sighed deeply, dropping the ruined rag in the water bucket with a slight splash. 

“Is-” Link began to say, but he soon lost his voice again.

“Yes?” Sir Thomas asked, eager to see any source of life in the boy again. 

“ _ Is she cold?”  _ he whispered to the floor, hands idly tangling in his ruined clothing that lay on his lap. 

Sir Thomas sat in silence and listened as his own heart broke along with Link’s. What a sad song they played together. 

“We need to...well...she doesn’t…”

Link looked up at him as he stumbled over his words. He didn’t know what to say.  _ She’s dead, Link. She feels nothing. We need to bury her. We need to send word to the castle. I have to get you to your father. I need to tell him I failed.  _ Link continued to stare at him, glassy blue eyes rimmed in crimson. His heart told him what his mind failed to. He didn’t need answers. He just needed reassurance. 

“No,” he breathed, “But you could pick a blanket for her when I...well...you know…if you want...”

Link shifted uneasily on his bed, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He nodded slightly before turning to the sound at the door, fear lighting his eyes once again. 

“It’s okay!” Sir Thomas steadied him with a hand on the shoulder, “It’s just Brooks with my clothes. I’ll be right back” 

Link took a deep breath and released his grip on the blankets beneath him as Sir Thomas walked back to the door and slid back outside. He closed his eyes and saw his mother’s face, death sucking the blue from her eyes already.  _ We are water from the same sea,  _ she had told him. He felt he had been drained of his sea, scraped raw by the salt it left behind. He wondered if he would ever truly feel warm again. 

* * *

It’s hard to dig a grave in winter. But he wouldn’t be deterred. Into the ground. Push down. Pull back. Haul up the dirt. Add to the pile. Repeat. The repetitive motions kept his mind from processing the blanket draped figure before him. He’d been digging for what felt like hours. His palms were burning, his sweat cooling instantly in the brisk winter air. His remaining soldiers sat at every entrance or exit to the house before him.  _ Yell for me if he moves,  _ he had commanded.  _ Call for me immediately if he makes a sound.  _ They were still as statues at their posts. Sir Thomas silently prayed the boy had fallen asleep, though he worried what nightmares would follow him there. 

“Oi!” he heard from up the hill. He looked up and brushed the hair from his eyes to see Brooks gesturing at a small figure emerging from the house.  _ Shit.  _ He let the shovel fall unceremoniously to the ground as he ran towards them. 

“Link! I’ll be right back, I promise, I’m just…”

Link stopped and looked up at him. He had pulled on his boots and managed to tuck his unruly mane into a thick gray stocking cap. His eyes were glassy, his skin held a sallow complexion, but the look in his eyes was one of purpose. They asked a question his lips could not. 

Sir Thomas paused and ran a hand down his face. He had passed his knight’s training with flying colors, quickly earning his high rank among the guardsman. He could hit a target through a haze with one eye closed, he won his duals more often than losing them, and he even felt confident in the face of an angry lynel. But deciding whether or not a child should help bury their own mother? Nothing in his training had prepared him for this. 

“Link...I...um...come on,” he relented and the two of them walked in somber silence to the plot he had chosen under the apple tree Link had climbed the previous day. 

* * *

Link sat beside the shallow grave, running his hands across the loose dirt, watching as the larger pieces tumbled down and settled at his boots. Sir Thomas stood behind him, leaning heavily on the shovel in his raw hands, fighting as sleep threatened to topple him over. 

“I’ll give you a minute,” he said quietly, “To say goodbye”

  
Link made no motion to indicate he was listening. He continued to level the dirt with idle hands, feeling each pebble as it raked across his skin. 

“I’ll just ... be over here then,” he said as he backed away to take his place up the hill. Far enough to give Link the privacy he thought he may need, but close enough to keep an eye on him. He dared not let him out of his sight again. Not before he could return him to his father. 

Link listened to the sound of his receding footsteps and closed his eyes. One. Two. Three. The crunch of a leaf. Wind rustling through the grass around him. He tried to hear his mother’s voice. To feel her hands as she rubbed circles into his back. But all he felt was cold. 

_ Love you,  _ she had said. 

He laid his arms across the mound of earth and buried his face into them. 

  
“_I love you too,” _he whispered, but no one was there to hear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sir Thomas is just trying his best.   
Have I sufficiently broken your heart yet?


	15. Let's Go Home

Sir Thomas draped a heavy blanket across Link as he lay in the grass beside his mother’s grave, tracing circles into the dirt with an idle hand. 

“Why don’t you come inside and rest while we pack?” he offered. But he did not respond. 

Sir Thomas left him there, against his better judgement, as he threw together what things they had left, strapping them to the horses who snorted and kicked at the ground before the small house. 

“Excuse me, sir?” 

Sir Thomas looked up from his packing to see an elderly woman standing before him. She had been the only brave soul from the pack of spectators to approach the group of soldiers, who were decked in the royal blue that usually said, “Not your business, do not ask”. 

“Can I help you, madam?” he tried to push his shoulders back and paint his voice thick with stoicism but he hadn’t slept since the day before and his body and mind were both screaming for rest. 

“We couldn’t help but notice the incident that occurred last night...the family that lives at that home. Ellia and her son. What happened to them?” She had the gentle sway of a grandmother, her kind eyes clouded with worry, “Are they okay?”

“You can tell whoever is in charge here that there will be a full royal report as soon as we return to the castle,” he hated to pull rank on the sweet woman, who genuinely seemed concerned, but he also did not want to answer her question. 

“Is that Link, over there?” 

She ignored his stern posture, pointing to the soft gray lump  across the bridge, “It’s just...he was always such an energetic boy. He must really be unwell. You shouldn’t leave him out in the cold like that. Are you taking him to his father? He works at the castle, you know. Very important man”

“Yes, I know him. Please, if you would, keep your concerns to yourself. Inform everyone that the threat is over and the boy...he’s being taken care of. Now if you will…” he let his words trail off, gesturing with a free arm as if to say,  _ Leave us alone.  _

With a huff, she turned around and waddled back to the waiting villagers, who huddled together at her return.  _ Hylia only knows what she’s telling them all,  _ Sir Thomas thought,  _ Hopefully we reach the castle before the rumors.  _ He concluded his thoughts as he tightened the belt on his horse and turned to fetch Link. 

* * *

Link held the piece of bread Sir Thomas had put in his hand as his eyes roamed the landscape before him. The bread was crusty. He didn’t like the way it scraped against his palm. Or the way it smelled. Or anything about it. But he held it because he’d been asked to and Sir Thomas was worried. But his stomach no longer existed. He was hollow inside. Like the inside of an empty tea mug. Or an open grave. But he didn’t know how to tell that to Sir Thomas, so he said nothing. He had been saying nothing for hours now. Just nodding in and out of consciousness only briefly enough to rest, but never long enough to sleep. He never wanted to sleep again. 

“You okay?” he felt the words leave the mouth that sat behind him on the horse as they traveled through the frost of early winter. They were airy and warm on his cold skin. He opened his mouth, but his words were still gone. He had left them in Hateno. Instead, he slowly exhaled, watching as the ribbons of his breath lifted from his nostrils and dissolved into the wind with a casualness that left him jealous. If only he could disappear so easily. 

Sir Thomas shifted behind him and felt as Link leaned back into his chest. He knew the poor child had to be exhausted. The attack had woken them in the middle of the night and here it was, almost setset of the following day, sleep dancing lazy circles around both of them, coming tantalizingly close before slipping away again. He wondered how he could help him fall asleep. He remembered the way Ellia was always patting him or rubbing his back.  _ It’s worth a shot,  _ he thought, wrapping the blanket tighter around him before using his free hand to pat a steady rhythm on the side of his leg, pretending to do so for want of something to do with his hands. He smiled an hour later when Link slackened against him, the forgotten slice of bread in his hand tumbling to the ground below them. 

* * *

_ “Hero,” the voice whispered against the darkness.  _

_ “Hero,”  _

_ The little princess was all wrong. Her eyes were blue instead of their emerald green. It made him uncomfortable. As if the sky were purple instead of blue. She cried on the dark horse as she rode away from the castle, away from him. He stood rooted to the ground by some unseen force. He felt fear crawl across his skin like roves of ravenous insects.  _

_ “HERO”  _

_ The castle behind him was broken. There were fragments of it everywhere. The pieces tumbled down the hill around him, splashing into the muddied water of the moat that encircled it. The horses were running away. Some of them were on fire. Do horses scream?  _

_ He floated away in an exhale as an ominous, full-faced moon laughed it’s way into the landscape, causing the trees to tremble and the ground the vibrate all around him. Suddenly there was nothing but darkness. Darkness and sound. _

_ A wind chime. Boots on gravel. A broken whisper.  _

_ “It waits for you, hero,” the sound was the flap of a bird’s wing in his ear.  _

_ He hears the chiming of metal clinging around him. Muffled shouting. He is mostly lost to the abyss now. Only the whisper keeps him from sinking in completely.  _

_ “They all wait for you, hero”  _

_ Hero.  _

_ The word is a sharp blade across his skin. He felt as it sliced him open. The warmth of  _ _ his blood is a mystifying comfort. He watches as it drips down his arms, disappearing into the blackness. He sees a man where his own reflection should be. The man opens his mouth as if to speak, but thick blood overflows from behind his teeth.  _

* * *

Link startled awake with a gasp, hands desperately clawing at his throat. His eyes darted back and forth. The moon was high in the night sky above him. This moon was placid, gently emitting a soft glow that kissed the land around him. It seemed to blessedly stay in its place in the sky. He looked at his hands, devoid of the crimson he expected to find there.  _ Where am I? _

Warmth wrapped around his lower half. He pulled at the blanket that had been tucked around him, which was now heavy and damp, as were his pants and legs. Shame enveloped him as he realized what had happened. Tears threatened to escape his still swollen eyes as he scanned the area around him for anything familiar. Sir Thomas lay dead to the world beside him, one arm tossed over his eyes as if to shield out the moonlight. He had placed Link closest to the campfire, which now lowly smoldered, threatening to extinguish with every cold wind that rushed through. The man assigned to be on watch had his eyes closed and mouth open as he sat with his back against a nearby tree. Link began to shiver as the wind stole away his fleeting warmth. He suddenly felt very small and very alone.

He shuffled from the campsite and over to the horses that were tied to a nearby tree. The sweet mount that was Sir Thomas’ nuzzled him affectionately at his approach. Link burrowed into the creatures warm fur with his face, running his hands along the short lengths of its mane. He felt his tears soak into the animal’s fur. He leaned his head against the beast and closed his eyes. He liked the way he could hear its snorts and exhales from the inside, rumbling through him as if they were his own.He stayed that way a moment, ignoring the cold chill that ran its icy fingers up his wet skin. He felt something land on his face and stepped back to examine it. A tiny pink petal clung to the wetness of his cheeks. He turned it over in his hand as the breeze adhered another to his chest. He followed the direction of the wind uphill until he saw the castle looming in the distance. It glared at him through the hills and valleys.  _ I know what you did,  _ the words creaked through the cracks in the ancient paving stones of its walls.  _ They will all see what you are.  _ He closed his eyes as another breeze seemed to cut straight through him, bringing with it more of the delicate pink petals that tickled at his face. 

The petals whispered to him in tones so delicate his ear could not differentiate their hushed messages from the gentle lull of nature around him. The hoot of an owl. His feet across the grass. He sat and piled the petals into his lap as the nighttime creatures eyed him curiously from their burrows. 

That is where Sir Thomas found him sometime later after rolling over to check on the boy, only to find his soiled sleeping blankets and the empty space where he used to be. He shuffled through the camp, attempting to keep his panic at a minimum, until he spotted him sitting up the hill. He gently approached the boy, whose sudden stillness the past days flew directly in the opposite direction of his usual rambunctious and curious nature. He found himself wishing the child would turn around with that electric grin of his that wrinkled his nose as he yelled, “Got you!” as if he had been playing some great game the entire time, just playing at the heartbreak he knew was threatening to wash him away. But he did not make any sign of movement. He sat still as a headstone in the soft luminescence of night. 

Sir Thomas approached and sat beside him, trying to side eye him casually. He had his hands in his lap, idly crunching what looked like dirtied leaves he’d found on the ground. His eyes were closed. The air around them stirred in such a manner that it almost felt purposeful, as if some sentient beings were directing its path around them, whipping up wisps of their hair in a playful show before whisking away into the night. Sir Thomas let his own eyes close as he let the odd feeling pulse through him. 

“Link?” he asked quietly after a moment of silence fell between them, leaning forward just slightly to catch a glimpse at the boy’s face, wondering if he felt it too. Link quickly shifted to a pained expression at the sound of his voice, clearly having been broken from his own reverie. 

Link opened his eyes, startled at the presence beside him, and shrunk away. 

“What’s wrong?” Sir Thomas asked, pondering his sudden standoffish behavior. He had been distant, but had not openly pushed away at his presence before. It puzzled him. 

Link looked forward at the castle. 

_ Oh,  _ Sir Thomas thought. 

“He will be...happy to see you, I’m sure” Sir Thomas faltered.  _ Nothing about this is happy. _

Link saw his father in the castle before him. He was strong. He commanded his men with a voice that boomed like that of a lion. His men respected him and valued him because he was worth something and he had worked valiantly to earn that worth. Link felt he wasn’t worth much of anything. He had been given one job and he had failed it.  _ He will be ashamed of me.  _

Sadness enveloped the boy like an old friend. He was adjusting to the weight of it now. The way his eyes stayed half lidded as he scanned the ground. The way his words kept themselves burrowed in the back of his throat, hiding away like the nocturnal creatures of winter. 

Sir Thomas had had quite enough of sadness by now. When he looked at Link, he felt something stirring within him. He thought of Eleanor and the curly, auburn haired children who may one day call him father if she continued to put up with his antics like he hoped she would. He hoped his own children’s happiness would not slip away from them as violently as Link’s had. He imagined sitting with his own son as they gazed at the castle, telling him stories of the brave boy who saved his hide from a lynel on Polymus mountain. 

“Figures you would get stuck in this situation with me,” Sir Thomas said, leaning back on his hands as he watched a bird fly from the tree above them, having missed the cue to fly with its flock south before the rise of winter. 

Link shifted where he sat, but made no reply. 

“At least some bokoblin didn’t run off with you while you were out here and make you his pet. What would you father to do me then, huh?” He peered across the gap at Link who had slightly shifted his head to face him.

“He’d throw me naked off the tallest tower of the castle,” Sir Thomas said, “Imagine that. Everyone laughing at my misfortune as I flail around helpless; naked as the day I was born. Eleanor would be quite embarrassed, I should think” 

Link turned to look at him, if only briefly. Sir Thomas smiled when he saw the very corner of his mouth upturn, just ever so slightly, before falling back down.

“Come here lad,” Sir Thomas sighed as he gave up on the distance between them and pulled the small boy into his lap, inwardly cringing as he felt the wetness of his pants seeping into his own. 

They shifted clumsily for a moment before Link finally settled into him, deeply exhaling as he let his body truly relax for the first time, having received what he hadn’t known he had been craving; honest affection. 

“You know,” Sir Thomas said, “I wet the bed until I was 10 years old”

The words hung awkwardly in the air for a moment longer than Sir Thomas would have liked. 

“Er...I won’t tell anyone if you don’t” he finally added, shifting so he could pat the boy on the head. 

Sir Thomas felt more than heard a muffled giggle from the golden haired boy who had nuzzled into his tunic. A warmth began to spread through him, bringing his tingling fingers and toes back to life. He inwardly cursed himself for getting soft, but Link had such a giving and compassionate nature that he couldn’t help but feel affection for the child. He was glad none of the other knights were awake to see how he cradled Link’s small frame as it curled into his own. Surely they would tease him relentlessly for it.

Link soon fell fast asleep in his lap and wouldn’t wake again until the next morning, where he found himself dressed in fresh clothes, ready to embark on the last stretch of trail back to the castle. He tried not to imagine what awaited him there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short segue until we reach the castle again, as well as some much needed comic relief from Sir Thomas. I never intended for his character to be so involved, but I've come to love him the more I've written. 
> 
> Thank you for keeping up with this story. As always, let me know what you think. Comments make my day. When I see a little number icon in my Inbox it always brings a smile to my face.


	16. Back Home

The castle loomed over the horizon, growing larger with each hesitant step of Sir Thomas’ gentle horse, who could feel its riders’ anxiousness as if it were its own. When the small group was just within eyesight of the large structure, Sir Thomas noticed the long black banners that were hanging forlornly from the ramparts.  _ What happened here?  _ His men began shifting uncomfortably on their horses, clearly hesitant to discover what news awaited them inside. 

“Leave us here,” he commanded, earning a few concerned looks from the lower knights. 

“Send word to the Captain where we are. Best not conduct this business...publicly” 

They nodded in solemn agreement before urging their mounts forward. Sir Thomas was unsure how Lennon would react to the news and hoped to give the usually austere man a moment to weep or cry into his son’s hair or strangle him, whichever outlet he chose to release the emotion that would surely crash down onto him. Sir Thomas had barely even seen the man smile before his wife and son had arrived in the castle. Their presence seemed to soften his rougher edges and bring an honest light back to his stern eyes. Now Sir Thomas had to tell him one of those lights had been extinguished and in no peaceful manner. He felt his meager lunch crawling back up his throat at the very thought. The thought of food reminded him of the boy sitting before him. Link had left his portion sitting untouched on the wooden plate Sir Thomas had sat before him earlier. He tried to think if the boy had consumed _anything _since the night of the attack and fell short. How long had it been now, three days? He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. 

Link curled closer to his chest, body slightly trembling from either the cold or his own anxiety. Both of them harbored the same fears. That Lennon would hold them solely responsible. Only one of them, Sir Thomas thought, held any semblance of actual blame. Link was merely a child playing at being protector. It was Sir Thomas’ job to oversee their safety. Though he had stationed a man at their door and stayed within close proximity, it hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been enough. For the first time, he felt the shame of it coat his insides, threatening to drown him from the inside out.  _ How,  _ he thought,  _ do I tell a man I let their wife be killed while their child watched. How could I have failed so completely.  _ Link broke him out of his brooding with a gentle tug to his sleeve. He looked to see where the boy was pointing. Lennon’s unmistakable figure cut through land before them before finally coming to a stop. He dismounted from his horse, wrapping his coat around himself as he went, and charged forward with such determination, Sir Thomas thought it may be better to just throw Link his direction and run off to Hebra forever. But he had more honor than that. At least, he hoped he did. 

“Sir Thomas, what is the meaning of this? You arrive days early, without sending word mind you, and you-” his voice seemed to trail off as his eyes fell on the sight before him. A very haggard Sir Thomas, currently refusing to meet his eyes, and Link, who sat shriveled in the saddle before him, squeezing his fists together so tightly it paled his already rather ashen skin. 

Sir Thomas let out a tense cough as he shifted, causing Link to look forward momentarily to the man before them. The one his heart both yearned and feared in that moment. Link’s mind fought desperately to fly free from the confines of his dejection. He wanted to ponder the movement of the leaves as they swirled in the winter winds, to trace their patterns with idle eyes, to imagine floating across them, free and unburdened. He wanted so desperately to run to his father and feel his heart beat in his ears in the familiar patterns he had grown to rely on after so many years of not having him near. He wanted his father to throw him in the air as their laughter entangled together. But he knew those times were gone. Dead and buried like the Yiga and his mother. He looked away, too afraid to look his father in the eyes. 

“Master Lennon, there was an incident in Hateno,” Sir Thomas began as regally as he could, trying to hide the trepidation in his voice, “It was the Yiga-”

Master Lennon began pacing a small patch of earth ahead of them. 

“No,” he said, watching diligently as his boots crushed the blades of grass beneath him, repeating the word to himself quietly as Sir Thomas continued. 

“It occurred in the middle of the night, Sir. The man I had stationed outside your old residence was taken down in stealth. Your...Ellia and Link attempted to flee but were caught outside” 

Sir Thomas stalled then and the silence between them was so heavy, Sir Thomas feared even his horse would collapse under the weight of it. Lennon lifted his head sharply, eyes focused intently on Sir Thomas’ face, which was growing more weary with every second. 

“Where is she, Sir Thomas, why is Ellia not with you?” Lennon’s voice was tense, his fists closed tightly at his sides. Link brought his hands up to his ears and turned into Sir Thomas, who paused a moment to give him a reassuring squeeze, for all that it was worth. Lennon studied the pair of them as keenly as a predator on the hunt, analyzing every small movement, fighting with everything he had against the realization that was quickly coming to his mind. Why hadn’t Link flown off the horse in his usual manner? Why was he clinging like a newborn to Sir Thomas? Why was Sir Thomas behaving so strangely?  _ What has happened? _

“I did not arrive in time, Master Lennon. I am so sorry…. I have failed you,” Sir Thomas’ head fell limp before him, the last of his stoicism dissolving throughout his body, leaving him listless and cold as the air around him. 

“How many?” Lennon’s voice was sharp as a freshly forged blade. He stopped his pacing and stood firm before them. His commanding presence seemed to spook Sir Thomas’ horse who took a few anxious steps backwards. Sir Thomas clicked his tongue softly to soothe the nervous beast. 

It took Sir Thomas a moment to process the question. He wasn’t quite sure what he expected, but it wasn’t a full investigation. He thought perhaps there would be weeping or  _ shouting  _ or at the very least the man would get a least a little  _ weepy.  _ He seemed to have instead dropped any emotion in favor of wearing his Captain’s mask; all business with no emotion. It unsettled him. 

“Three, Sir,” he replied curtly. 

“And you managed to take out all three single handed before they harmed my son?” 

A tense silence fell between them once more as Sir Thomas ran his tongue over his lips in a futile attempt to rid himself of some anxiety.  _ That  _ was certainly not what he had planned to discuss on that hillside. Particularly with their current audience, who had began breathing rather quickly against his chest at the mention of his presence in the matter. 

“No, Sir, just...one”

“Then who…”

Sir Thomas swallowed his fears along with the lump in his throat and connected his eyes firmly to his Captain’s, whose were currently trying to bore a hole in his face, or so they seemed. He shifted his gaze down towards Link and then back to Lennon, concern etched across his brow. A silent way of saying,  _ don’t make me say it.  _ A range of sentiments flashed across Lennon’s face at the exchange. Confusion. Contemplation. Disbelief. He met Sir Thomas’ eyes again, who only gave a curt nod to affirm the implied meaning. 

“No,” Lennon said again, this time with a voice that had been dulled by the desperation that was building in his stomach.

“Forgive me, but perhaps we could discuss the specifics another time. I’m...worried,” he said slowly, pointing again to Link with his eyes. Lennon seemed to be deflating with every word, the firmness of his previous glares melting into the most honest despair Thomas had ever seen cross the stoic man’s face. 

“His is unharmed, save for a few scratches. But I cannot get him to eat or drink or even speak to me...he’s not okay, Master Lennon,” 

Sir Thomas slowly dismounted from his horse and gently placed Link on the ground before him, still wrapped tightly in the riding blanket. He looked down at the ground before turning back to Sir Thomas’ so he wouldn’t have to face his father. 

“Link?” Lennon slowly approached and knelt before his son, feeling his heart bleed  openly in his chest as he finally accepted what he had lost. What they had both lost. He had never seen Link so heavyhearted. This version of his son was foreign and terrifying to him. Ellia had always been the captain of Link's emotions. She could mend his heart no matter how he had broken it. She always knew what to tell him to ease his fears or negate his frustrations. She could console him or deflate him with a simple touch or a string of gentle words. Lennon held no such power for his son. For the first time in his life, he felt utterly hopeless. 

“Captain,” Sir Thomas said gently, causing Lennon to look up at the man, “I think he blames himself. I think...he fears your disappointment most of all. If I may...” 

Lennon looked down again at Link and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Sir Thomas,” he began, barely keeping the tremor from his voice, “Please return to the castle. I will return with my son shortly and we will discuss the ramifications of this. Alone”

“Aye, Sir,” Sir Thomas’ bowed and hesitated before the pair of them. It felt wrong to leave Link in such a state. He knew he was safe in his father’s hands, but Link didn’t seem to think so. He looked every bit the frightened seven year old child that he truly was standing on that hillside, wrapped in an old stable blanket, turning awkwardly away from his father’s touch like one might a stranger. But he was not the boy’s father or his kin in any sense of the word. He was bound by duty to leave them. So he stepped away, though he didn’t get far before he felt a small resistance on the tail of his coat. He turned to see Link fisting the material in one of his hands. He knelt down beside him and let out a patient sigh. 

“Remember what I told you lad, you did nothing wrong. So you have nothing to fear. Go to your father now,” he kept his words and his tone as gentle as he could, given the steely eyes of Lennon he had no doubt were piercing him from behind the boy. But what Sir Thomas’ did not see was that glare softening at their exchange. Lennon was not blind and certainly was no fool. He could see the sincerity in their exchange. Though Link was an amiable boy, he did not give his affection away so freely. Whatever had occurred between them, Lennon could see it had been to protect Link from the Yiga as well as himself. 

“Thank you, Sir Thomas,” Lennon muttered quietly, “You are dismissed”

Sir Thomas nodded and mounted his horse. 

Lennon sat on his knees before his son and listened as the hoof beats slowed to a distance thunder. When at last he found the courage within him to make eye contact with his son, he found the child gazing not at the castle, but beyond it, a faraway expression draped across his small face. He cupped the boy’s cheeks in his calloused hands and wiped away the silent tears he found there. Slowly, Link’s eyes met his and what was left of Lennon’s resolve crumbled. Reality crashed upon him like a tumultuous sea. She was gone and in her absence came the crushing despair that chilled the empty cavern that was once his chest, his heart straining to beat against the frigid conditions that were quickly numbing him entirely. He had loved her from the moment he laid eyes upon her to the moment she disappeared over the very hills he found himself now. And yet he had pushed her away. He pushed her to Hateno when he refused to put her and Link before his duty. He spent years dreaming of her in an empty bed as she cradled their son halfway across the kingdom. She had remained steadfast in her belief that he didn’t belong at that dreaded castle, that they belonged together out in the country, where they could be free. But he was stubborn and determined to fulfill his oath to his King. He allowed his son to grow up forever watching out the window for a father that seldom visited. He allowed Link to create a perfect image of himself in his mind to fill that gap and now that perfect image was distorted with trauma and  _ fear.  _ Link was afraid of him. The added weight of that realization was what finally broke him. He pulled Link into him and wept. 

“I should have been there,” Lennon wept into Link’s shoulder, “I should have protected you. Both of you,”

Link began to melt in his father’s arms as he started to cry once more in earnest, finally allowing the fear, exhaustion, and the shame that he had harbored since he saw his mother fall bloodied to the earth to escape him. He wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and buried his face against him.

“I tried,” he breathed into his father’s clammy skin, “I tried very hard”

Lennon’s breath hitched at the desperation that clung to Link’s feeble voice. 

“I know you did, son. I know,” 

They held each other for a while longer as their breathing slowed, their cries fading to quick double breaths and sniffles as the world continued on around them. 

“I-” Link began but stopped as Lennon shushed him. 

“Hush now, child. You need to rest. We are both needed back at the castle. Something has happened,”

Link leaned back to question his father with his eyes.

“You are not the only child mourning their mother this day, Link. The Queen has died. It was the illness that took her. King Rhoam...I fear I now know the tempest that has grown inside him. We must return. Tomorrow we must stand at the Vigil of the Princes as the Queen lies in state. As the King as no other family in the castle, the task falls to his upper guardsmen. As my son and an honorary member of the guard, you will be expected to stand beside me,”

Link stood motionless in front of his father. He had always seen the world as a place of wonder. Something to be explored. Every rock, every bend in the road, every wisp of wind an invitation for adventure. Happiness clung to him like cloth to wet skin, forming to his shape. But now he felt that happiness had left him, leaving him cold and barren. It would seem a darkness had found its way to Hyrule itself, not just for him. His mother had always told him that  _ he  _ was the light that Hyrule needed. That she would always find him. He wondered if she could find him even when his light had extinguished. Would she be able to see through the darkness? Would Hyrule forgive him if he could no longer share his light? He wasn't sure he could find it again.

“Come on son, let’s go home,” Lennon said, picking him up gently. 

Link pondered a great many things as he rode towards the castle on the front of his father’s horse. He reached forward to pet the horse’s mane, longing to feel the way the hair slipped through his fingers. As he untangled the strands he could reach, he found a familiar petal weaved between them, feather light, the color of the blush across his mother’s cheeks. He ran a gentle finger across it as he felt the whisper it brought to him across his heart. 

_ Come to us,  _ it said,  _ Come to the Lost Woods.  _

He let it fall from his fingers as they entered the castle gates. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP to the Queen. The Vigil of the Princes is a real thing in England, though its reserved for members of the royal family. It is never mentioned that there are other members of the royal family in Hyrule, so I decided the King would chose who to guard his Queen as she lay in state. 
> 
> Forgive the slowness as the story changes course. The tide has turned for poor Link, but much is yet to come. As always, let me know what you think in the comments. They really do make my day.


	17. The Vigil

Lennon stared at Link as he slept back in their castle chambers. Morning was lazily creeping across Hyrule, sending warm tendrils of sunlight to dance across the cold floors. He had quietly refused to sleep alone and nestled beside his father at some point in the night, though it took him quite some time to still. The boy had tossed and turned for most of the night, often briefly awakening long enough to slow the rapid breathing that accompanied what Lennon assumed to be nightmares. He had barely spoken a word since returning to the castle, yet he murmured in his sleep. Lennon could never quite make out what he was saying, try though as he might as he dodged his own dreams and the heartache he was sure to find there. Link had settled sometime right before dawn, his body finally relaxing into the deep slumber he was currently in. Lennon was loathe to wake him. He was torn between waking him to ease his own bitter loneliness or allowing him his much needed rest. He opted for the latter. They had a good few hours before they were expected in the sanctum for the Vigil. A knock on the door broke him from his thoughts. He swiftly cracked the door to shush the visitor, fearing it would wake Link. A familiar face greeted him on the other side. 

“Mornin’, Lennon,” Sir Otto said as he peered at the disheveled man before him. 

Sir Otto had been Lennon’s most trusted lieutenant and a loyal friend since his first days at the castle. It was him who Lennon had sent to safely transport Ellia and Link from Hateno to the Castle at the King’s request all that time ago. Another lifetime, it seemed. Before prophecy stole his son’s future and with it, Ellia’s life. Lennon let out an exhausted sigh and motioned for Sir Otto to enter with a finger over his lips. 

“I don’t want to wake him, he only just fell asleep,” Lennon softly explained as he shut the door behind them. He stood in the doorway where Link lay and let his eyes roam over the small shape he made on the bed before gently closing the bedroom door as well. 

“My condolences, Lennon. I heard about what happened in Hateno. How are you? How’s the boy?” Sir Otto said, lowering himself to a seat at the table as Lennon did the same on the other side. 

Lennon sighed and ran his hands through his hair. 

“It doesn’t feel real to me, Otto. I feel like any moment she’s going to bust through the door and chastise me for letting him get his pants dirty or feeding him too many sweets” 

Sir Otto smiled sadly as he leaned back in the chair.

“Aye, that does seem like something she would do, doesn’t it?” 

Lennon halfheartedly returned the smile as a companionable, yet weighty silence fell over the two men. 

“I heard…” Sir Otto began, shifting his gaze to the ceiling, “I heard that the boy took out  _ two  _ Yiga foot soldiers,”

Lennon shot the man a glare that was both frightening and heartbreaking before turning to stare out the window. 

“But you know how rumor distorts the truth. He’s a talented little scamp, I’ll give him that. But he’s such a petite, kindhearted little fellow. I could hardly see how-”

“Otto,” Lennon interrupted, leaving the man to awkwardly swallow the rest of this thought as the unspoken truth hovered between them, filling the room with an unwelcome tension.

“So it’s true then...” Otto said, perplexed, “But he’s just a child. He’d never even held a sword when he arrived here” 

“He continually defies logic, my old friend. I’ve long since stopped trying to find an obvious answer for it,” Lennon sighed, letting his hands fall idly at his sides, “It is nothing I can credit to some great deed I’ve done as a father. Other than the last two years, the boy barely knew me. He was more acquainted with the stablehand back in Hateno than he was with me,” 

Otto furrowed his brow and leaned forward, “But he doesn’t love the stablehand back in Hateno, Lennon, he loves  _ you _ . It is obvious to all who see him. He idolizes you. Why do you question that now?”

  
“He loves who he imagined me to be. So far I’ve just managed to fit his description. But how long until I start failing? Especially now? It was always her, Otto. She was the one who parented him. Taught him manners. Calmed his fears. She was there for it all. I only ever passed through. What am I to do now?” he nearly cried, voice quivering as he closed his eyes and saw her, swirling in the ivory of her wedding gown. 

“Have you spoken with him about what happened?” Sir Otto asked gently, giving the grieving man a moment to collect himself. 

“He’s barely spoken at all”

“And you don’t find that unsettling? When is the last time that little tyke let a moment go by without asking some off the wall question that popped into his mind?”

Lennon crossed his arms and let his gaze wander to the closed bedroom door to his right. They rode back to the castle in silence the day before. That evening her had spent his time holding a book about knights out of their balcony, tracing the lettering with his fingers without saying a word. Even when Lennon had attempted to put him to bed in his own room, he had quietly pleaded with just a word. 

“ _ Please,”  _ he had asked, his voice so hushed he almost didn’t hear him. 

It hadn’t taken more than that for Lennon to agree. He had picked the boy up and led him to his own bed, where he sat with him until he had fallen into his fitful sleep. It was quite unlike his usual self, but Lennon assumed he was still processing and had left him to it. 

“You need to speak with him about it. Not just about what he saw. But about what he  _ did,  _ Lennon. Most of our soldiers are well into adulthood before they become blooded on the battlefield. Even then they struggle. You’ve seen it. Imagine losing your mother and experiencing that all on the same day. Especially as a  _ child,”  _ Sir Otto’s voice was firm, though laced with sincerity. He had seen one too many soldiers lose themselves to the grief that was knowing their hand snuffed out another’s life. He couldn’t imagine what it may translate to for a child and he didn’t wish to see Link suffer it. 

“I’m doing the best I can,  _ lieutenant,”  _ Lennon shot back at him, feeling his despair turn sour, bubbling into a hot anger that made his hands clench and his eyes narrow. 

“I certainly do not think he needs to attend the vigil this afternoon. Surely King Rhoam would understand, the Princess is suffering much the same,” Otto continued bravely, being no stranger to Lennon’s ire.

“I will not ask the King to make exceptions for  _ me,  _ Otto. We are all bound by duty here. You of all people should know that,” Lennon stood and motioned for the door. 

Sir Otto slowly rose from his place at the table and took a step towards his old friend. He could see the hurt across Lennon’s face as clearly as he could see his brows knit together in anger and frustration. Always loyal to a fault, he was. Always willing to forgo his own desire in favor of ensuring someone else’s. It was honorable, sure. But honor would not mend his broken heart, nor his son’s. 

“I just ask that you consider letting him stay here, away from prying eyes. Let him mourn in peace. You should hear the way the gossip mongers speak of him. Some are even suggesting…”

“Suggesting  _ what _ , Sir Otto,” Lennon glared, turning the door knob as Otto approached the threshold. 

“Some are suggesting he may be the Hero, reborn again. The words of the old prophet are not so soon forgotten. And he does quite fit the bill, doesn’t he?”

Lennon’s eyes briefly widened as he flexed his jaw. 

“Good day to you then, Sir Otto. I expect your prompt attendance in the sanctum this afternoon,” Lennon said through clenched teeth, holding the door handle tighter than was necessary. 

“Yes, Sir,” Otto bowed before ducking out into the hallway. 

* * *

Lennon tugged the black tunic over Link’s head as he sat at their table, an untouched plate of breakfast before him. One of the castle seamstresses had kindly brought a bundle of clothes for him when Lennon realized there was no royal guard gear quite small enough to fit him. Now he sat obediently before his father draped in all black save for a sash bearing the Hyrule family crest across his chest. Now all he had to do was tame the child’s unruly blonde mane and he would be presentable for the vigil. Lennon handed Link a comb as he turned away to tidy himself up, praying a splash of cold water across his face would hide his sorrow from the night before. Link sat and eyed the comb before trying to run it through his hair without much success before his father turned around with a frown.

“Link, we are expected within the hour and you look like you just took a tumble through the kennels!” he scolded, taking the comb from his hands and trying to fix the mess himself, though his success was proving to be as fruitless as Link’s. 

“I should have made you cut this off when I had the chance,” he breathed through his irritation. He was a stranger to preparing a child for anything, much less the critical event they were about to attend. Lennon knew the King would tolerate no missteps and he didn’t intend to be a thorn in the King’s already bloodied side on this day, of all days. 

Link cast his eyes down to the floor, turning his ankles so that the shiny material of his black boots caught the light in such a way that they gleaned back up at him. He held his hands together, running his thumbs back and forth over one another to feel the smoothness of his skin, watching the way his digits formed and unformed little X’s. It did little to calm him. He had tried so very hard not to upset his father since returning. He had been very quiet and asked for nothing. He could tell his father was deeply displeased as soon as he had stumbled into their living area late that morning to find him digging a knife into the old oak of of their table. He couldn’t tell if it was something new he had done or if he had began to realize it really  _ was  _ Link’s fault his mother was gone. He did not want to know the answer, so he did not ask. 

“I’m sorry, father” he said quietly, trying to ignore the rising nausea in his stomach. His breakfast glared at him from the table. He looked away. The sudden movement caused him to wince from a dull pain that was growing behind his eyes. He certainly did not want to bother his father with the knowledge that he had woken up not feeling well. He did not want to bother his father with anything at all. He had decided the best he could do was to do all he was told without complaint or comment, but even that seemed to not be working. He sighed and pulled his knees into his body, laying his head down across them without another word. 

Lennon sat the comb down and let out a frustrated exhale. 

“No Link, I’m sorry. None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he apologized, laying a hand on Link’s back, “It’s just…”

Another knock on the door brought the scowl back to Lennon’s face.  _ What is it now?! _

“You may enter,” he called without rising from his seat. 

One of the castle maids scuffled into the room with an armful of clean linens.

“My apologies, Sir. Should I come back another time?” she spoke without lifting her eyes from the bundle of bedding that was stacked nearly to her nose. 

“No, it’s quite alright. You may proceed with your duties,” he said as he picked up the comb and continued his fight against the shock of blonde hair before him. Link did his best not to flinch when he pulled and yanked, but a few pained gasps managed to escape him, causing the young maid to eye him warmly from across the room as she put away their new bedding. After tucking the laundry safely away she stood before the pair of them awkwardly, wringing her apron nervously in her hands. 

“Is there something else you need, then?” Lennon asked as he tugged a particularly tight tangle of hair. Link had decided to simply keep his eyes closed at that point, pondering if it wouldn’t be better to have no hair at all, though he did like the way his tickled the back of his neck. 

“Pardon me, sir. But would you like some help?” she asked meekly, “I have a boy around his age and his hair is just as stubborn. I could assist you, if you’d like” 

Lennon sighed and nodded, handing the young girl the comb as he rose and left for the balcony, leaving Link to watch him helplessly as the stranger settled in behind him. 

The maid laid the comb down and used her small fingers to gently work the knots in Link’s hair until it was smooth enough to work with the brush she had pulled from her apron along with a small hair tie, which she then used to pull his hair back neatly at his neck, leaving two longer pieces to frame his face. Link sat still while she worked, remembering the way his mother used to tenderly break apart the waves of his hair that would stubbornly tangle together, playfully teasing him about finding small woodland creatures burrowed within them due to their wildness. He liked to imagine them in there, tucking away acorns for winter just behind his ears. It had always caused a giggle from him. He didn’t much feel like giggling now. 

“There, there,” the young maid said affectionately, “Now don’t you look like a handsome little prince?” Her smile instantly brought a slight warmth to the coldness that had taken up residence in his chest. He returned it weakly, the edges of his mouth lifting ever so slightly at her cheery disposition. 

Lennon rejoined them briskly with muffled words of thanks as the maid took a bow and hurried from the room. Link missed her immediately, though he didn't know why. He wished he had thought to ask her name. His father sat before him with his arms folded, a tightness across his face. 

“When we enter the sanctum you will see the Queen in her casket in the center of the atrium. We are to stand guard around her. Feet firmly on the floor, hands resting on the hilt of your sword, like so,” he demonstrated, “You are to be seen and not heard. A fixture. A representation of the crown. Silent protectors. Your eyes will meet no other’s face. No words will pass your lips. Keep your face as if you were made of stone, do you understand?”

Link nodded as his eyes darted across his father’s face. He had seen this man before, but had never spoken to him directly. This was not Lennon, the man he knew as father, this was Captain Lennon of Hyrule’s Royal Guard. He tried not to give life to the pang of upset that echoed inside him.

“Link,” his father said wearily, “Please talk to me. Enough with this silence”

Link hesitated a moment, lightly squeezing his hands together, trying to coax the words to his lips. 

“Yes, father,” he finally managed. 

Lennon quietly groaned. He was obeying him as if it were a direct order. As a small child, Link was known to fill any room with his questions and comments. Why this? Or why that? Or how did that happen? Or can we do it again? It was as if he wanted the entire world’s worth of knowledge all to himself. Every tiny detail seemed to ignite something in his curiosity. But now he appeared to struggle at stringing together simple sentences. As if he no longer wished to be heard. 

“Listen, son. This is not a burden you must bear on your own. When all this business with the Queen is over, we will find each other again. I promise to listen if you promise to talk to me, okay? I cannot help you if you keep it all inside,” he took Link’s folded hands into his own, gently untangling them, tracing the lines of his small palm with his thumbs. 

“Okay,” he whispered, but he wasn’t sure he could keep that deal. He wasn’t sure his thoughts were meant to be outside of the confines of his own mind. He didn’t know how to tell his father about the woman bathed in light, or the way his small blade slid across the skin of the Yiga’s throat, or the whispers of the forest, or the dreams of the princess whose eyes were all wrong, or the way everyone kept calling him “hero” and he didn’t know why. I knew his father just wanted him to be someone he could be proud of. He pondered the best ways of pretending as he tried to chase away the headache that was curling around in his head. 

* * *

The sanctum was an imposing space. It’s tall vaulted ceilings towered above the knights that marched to its center, dutifully taking up their positions at all sides of the ornate coffin that was draped in the royal blue and gold. Sunlight from the tall windows bathed a portion of the room in fragile light as if it too were mourning the death of its Queen. Link stood beside his father at his post, holding the tiny sword he had been given in his hands. It was not his sword. He didn’t remember what happened to his sword. He briefly wondered if his father would be angry with him. He had promised to respect the blade, didn’t he? He was turning out to be quite adept at breaking his promises. He decided to never make a promise again, that way he could avoid the disappointment that followed. He found that of all things, disappointment tasted the most sour. 

From his viewpoint he could just see the front of the casket. It was quite beautiful, the metal work sending dancing ribbons of light to the ground in front of it. She would be in there, then. The Queen. Was she comfortable? Was it frightening to be locked inside? He tried not to imagine her behind the gilded latches of the wooden lid that separated her from him. The dead from the living. His thoughts trailed back to his own mother. Where were her guards? She had no fanciful casket, only the old quilt from her bed. He hadn’t even remembered to put a flower on her meager grave. The thought filled him with a crushing sadness so imposing that a strangled cry managed to escape his lips. The sound of it echoed across the open space around him, amplified by the somber silence that filled the room. He fought the tears that pooled at the edges of his eyes as his father gently reached down and squeezed his shoulder. Everyone had turned to stare at him. All the castle staff that lined the upper walkways, the knights on the opposite side of the room. He could almost hear the way they whispered to each other. 

_ Isn’t that him?  _

_ That’s the boy who let his mother die. _

_ I heard he killed two men.  _

_ Slashed their throats like cattle at slaughter. _

_ It’s not right. _

_ It’s not natural.  _

_ What is he doing here? _

He squeezed his eyes shut and willed his mind to take him somewhere else, somewhere far away. He imagined the steep cliffs of Zora’s domain, the way the water frothed at the bottom. Could you swim all the way to Zora’s domain? Would it be faster than riding a horse? Do Zora’s know how to ride a horse? The sound of creaking hinges brought him back to the present. 

King Rhoam and the tiny Princess walked side by side into the open area, both clad in elegant black robes trimmed in the ever present royal blue and gold. The Princess had an elegant trio of triangles delicately embroidered right over her heart, where she was clutching her small hands. Though her hair and clothing suggested that someone had been caring for her, her small pale face highlighted the grief that struck the young girl. Her emerald eyes hung heavy with a red rim of sorrow as she scanned the room, deftly avoiding the casket at its center. 

Link had never liked the color black. It reminded him of ravens and the dark corners of his bedroom that used to frighten him at night. For a color so full of mystery and uncertainty, its presence here carried a finality that filled him with dread. He didn’t think it suited the little golden princess, whose light was dulled behind its deep hues. Zelda found him among the other soldiers, surprised to see him there. It had been awhile since she had seen the little boy who chased the lizards. A sad smile pulled at the edges of her lips as she pulled on her father’s sleeve. 

“Papa,” she whispered, frightened at how her voice would travel in the heavy silence, “Papa, it’s the boy from the gardens” 

Link looked up at her then, their eyes, of land and sea, finally meeting and melding together. He wanted to let his borrowed sword fall to the floor so he could run and play with her again, their shared sadness briefly tucked aside in favor of childish wonder. He tried to return her smile but found it brought tears to his eyes again. He wasn’t supposed to smile at the princess. He wasn’t supposed to be seen at all. He let his eyes fall back to the floor where he hoped to lose himself in thought once again.

Zelda continued to pull at her father’s sleeve until he turned his head down to her, glaring in such a manner that warranted no words. She shrunk away from him, but kept a close hold of his sleeve. Her little hand longed for the warmth of being held again. Tears began to form anew in her eyes and she obediently followed him to face the once ethereal queen in her casket. 

The King was silent as he gazed over her form. She had been perfect. A Queen molded from the heavens themselves. More than he ever deserved. He supposed it fitting, now, to be stripped of her just as darkness seeped its way into his land, leaving him with the quivering child at his feet as their only salvation. He had been too soft with her, allowing his Queen to coddle her with fairy tales, indulging her every whim instead of instilling in her the doctrine of the holy sealing power. He prayed he hadn’t damned them all in his foolishness. To let love override his duty. He would not be so daft as to make the same mistake again.

“Zelda,” his rich voice falling like stones to the floor, “It is up to you now to fill her place. To find within you what has been granted to you by birth. Hylia’s blood runs in your veins. When the time comes,_ you_ will be what keeps us from the clutches of evil. Listen, child!” 

Zelda let out a pitiful whimper as she lifted her eyes to his. He may as well have been ten feet tall for how small she felt in that moment, looking up at him through a haze of tears. 

“Do not disappoint me. Disappoint our kingdom. It all falls to you now”

He turned on his heel and strode out of the sanctum, leaving Zelda alone at the altar where she fell on her tiny knees and wept. No one dared to reach and touch her for none were allowed. Link felt every shaky inhale as if it were his own. He knew that pain. The hollowness. The fear. He felt it was a particular kind of cruelty to leave her abandoned in that sorrow in a room full of people whose job is was to protect her. He knew in his heart that every man in that room would gladly lay down his life to save her from physical danger. But heartache was an invisible menace; the fatal wound that no one could see. 

Finally, one of Zelda’s handmaidens came to rush her away in a heap of sniffles and wrinkled clothing as the doors to the atrium were opened to allow the public to mourn their Queen. Link returned his gaze to the bricks across from him as another bout of dizziness overcame him.  _ Focus _ . One. Two. Five bricks from the floor to the window pane. The people continued to shuffle inside, red-eyed, handkerchiefs in hand. How many people mourned for his mother? Would the world even notice her absence? A faint hint of red in the sea of people caught his eye, causing his heart to wildly thrash about in his chest.  _ Yiga. _ The man turned, pulling the edges of his tattered red jacket closer around his body to ward off the chill. Just a regular man. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought.

One whisper turned to two. Turned to several as the people of Hyrule Castle pondered what would happen next. What would Hyrule do without its Queen and only a tiny Princess with no powers to be seen? Link tried to block out their words. Of Princesses. Of sealing powers. Of Calamity. Of Heros. Their words slowly turned to a language he did not recognize, the edges of his vision tunneling, the crowd before him muddling into smears of color and light. He felt his hands begin to shake as nausea overtook him. The last thing he heard before allowing the darkness to take him was his father's voice desperately calling his name. 

* * *

He awoke in a warm, unfamiliar bed with a stranger's face before him. He tried to sit up and survey his surroundings, but the dizziness caused him to fall back down. 

“The child is dehydrated,” the strange voice said, “Have you been making sure he’s taken care of?”

“I-uh...I did offer breakfast this morning though...I don’t recall that he touched it,” his father’s voice was low, almost a whisper. He brought the chair that was seated beside him closer so he could reach out and brush the stray hairs from his face. 

“Here, get him to drink this. But slowly. You risk him bringing it all back up and then we will be worse off than before,” the man, who Link now assumed was some type of doctor, pushed a steaming mug of thin soup into his father’s hands. 

“Where is his mother?” the doctor asked, leaning back in his chair, pushing the glasses that had slid down his nose up with the hand that wasn’t currently busy scribbling down notes on an old notepad, “Mothers typically are better at this sort of thing” 

“Gone,” Lennon replied quietly.

“How long?” 

Lennon shifted uncomfortably in his seat and helped Link to sit upright in the bed, handing him the mug. Link closed his eyes as he felt the warmth of it penetrate his skin, the steam lifting in lazy curls to kiss his face. 

“Recently”

“Ah - so he suffers from heartbreak as well,” the previously formal tone of the doctor’s voice now held a touch of sympathy, “and that is something I have no cure for”

Link watched the way his breath pushed little waves across the brown broth in the mug, sending the stream out and away from him before dissolving in the cool air. He felt the smoothness of the cup across his skin. It was like holding a tiny bathtub.

“Please drink, son,” he heard his father say beside him, “I can’t lose you too” 

Link brought the edge of the mug to his lips and slowly sipped the cooling liquid, feeling the sigh of relief from his father beside him. 

“That’s my boy,” he said, gently patting him on the back. 

Link took a few more cautious sips of the liquid before his body urged him to down the rest, desperate for sustenance. He felt the warm liquid settle in the pit of his stomach. 

“Take him home and let him rest. But wake him and make sure he gets more liquids down,” the doctor ordered, "Oh and...give him time to grieve. The only thing that takes the edge off a broken heart is time" 

Lennon nodded in thanks to the man before lifting Link from the bed, turning to carry him down the long corridors to their room. Link watched the way the word gently rocked up and down from his view on his father’s shoulder, the subtle rocking pulling on his eyelids, his body begging for sleep.

“Father,” he managed to say as they turned down the last of the walkways to their chambers, “I’m not a very good knight”

Lennon held him tighter and he picked up his pace, not wanting any of his men stationed down to halls to see the way it broke him. 


	18. Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. Holidays are a strange time.

Link sat at the oak table staring into the soup before him with eyes heavy as boulders. His father had woken him from a deep sleep that had been blissfully without nightmare for the first time in days. He had wanted to complain, but he didn’t. Now he was trying his hardest not to topple into the warm broth as his father stared at him as if he had grown wings. Link wished he would look anywhere expect upon him. 

“I was able to talk to Sir Thomas while you slept,” Lennon started quietly.

Link stirred the soup idly, face devoid of any expression. Lennon tried not to let it bother him. The usually very expressive child had seemed to revert into himself, only speaking when directly asked. Otherwise he sat and observed, a flat affect across his features. Lennon could only guess as to the workings of his mind. 

“You were very brave. Braver than I ever expected you to be”

Link blew ripples across the surface. A chunk of some type of vegetable bobbed up and down. He followed its movements with his eyes. 

“I never imagined that you would be able to…”

Link looked up and thoughts flooded into his mind. Lightning quick flashes of scenery. The moonlit grass. The smell of blood. The masked soldiers. The curve of the blade he’d stolen neatly cutting into an exposed neck. He wondered where that blade was now. He prayed it had been swallowed by the earth. 

“It doesn’t feel good, does it?” his father asked gently, tipping his downcast head up with a finger, “To kill someone” 

Link let down the walls he’d been steadily building around himself and felt a flood within him. He had almost wondered if it had all been some bizarre fever dream. But to have his father acknowledge what he had pushed aside breathed life into the nightmare he’d been fighting.

“They were hurting her,” he started, quietly. 

“I know,” Lennon flinched. 

“She told me to run away but I didn’t”

Lennon’s face dropped to his hands. To hear it from Sir Thomas as a formal report was nothing compared to the emotions Link’s retelling were sure to invoke in him. 

“She was crying and they pushed me down really hard,” Link continued, feeling the words flow through him like they had a mind of their own.

“And then they let her go and then she fell again and then and then...they shot an  _ arrow _ even though she wasn’t very far away and she fell down and then I remembered what you said and I-” Link stammered, eyes shifting erratically from one end of the room to another, landing anywhere but on the man before him. 

“What did I say?” Lennon interrupted, fighting through the tears building in his eyes.

“You said ‘take care of your mother for me’ and that was  _ my  _ job but I was so  _ scared _ and I tried so hard but I don’t remember how I did it and I wanted it to stop but they didn’t stop and and and…” Link’s breathing grew quicker as the pace of his story intensified, his eyes growing wide as if he were seeing it all before him again. 

“He told me not to move but I was so, so, so  _ hot _ inside and I moved and then he did it. He hurt her. So many times. One. Two. Three. _ I don’t remember _ . But it was so many. And she fell and I didn’t do anything. I was so scared when I was supposed to be brave and then Sir Thomas came and there was blood everywhere and she wouldn’t get up and it was on my hands and then-”

Lennon shushed him and pulled him into a hug so fierce that the bowl of soup in Link’s hands tumbled to the floor, coating the ground below them in its contents. 

“It _ hurts,” _ Link cried as he was smashed into the hard planes of his father’s chest. 

Lennon pulled him back by the shoulders to get a good look at him. The horrors that were now held in his eyes, his heart. How was this tenderhearted boy supposed to battle the reincarnation of evil? Why were the Goddesses so cruel? How could they possibly expect him to raise this broken child into the very image of courageousness when he when was barely keeping him _alive_? Link’s breath came quick, his hands trembling before him as Lennon held him for lack of knowing what to do.  _ She would know what to do,  _ he thought. But she wasn’t there. He felt her absence like a ghost across his soul. 

“That’s the price of bravery, son. I’m just sorry you had to pay it so young,” Lennon finally told him, picking the boy up and placing him back in his own chair.

“Now, I believe we’ve cried enough to refill Lake Hylia should it drain. I’ve also ruined your supper. You stay here while I get you something else to eat”

Link pleaded for him to stay with his eyes, but Lennon only shook his head. He needed a moment to collect himself. He needed more fortitude if he was to raise the next Hero of Hyrule alone. He felt himself shudder at the thought. 

“Doctor’s orders. Wait here” 

Lennon clumsily ruffled the boy’s hair before shutting the door behind him. Link stared at the wooden surface long after he left, unmoving in his chair, his dirty blonde bangs obscuring his vision from where his father had disrupted it. He sat that way for a while, mind gratefully empty of thought. He was tired of thinking. Of crying. He felt his eyes would always be itchy for all the crying he’d done. He wondered if other knights cried as much as he did.  _ I’m not really a knight at all,  _ he thought. He laid his head down on the table and tried to picture the King crying. Did he even know how to cry? Surely men as brave as the  King  wouldn’t blubber about like a little child. But then he thought about the way he had treated the Princess, whose heart, he knew, was just as injured as his. He could tell by the way her eyes looked itchy too, how she had reached deep within herself to find the small pocket of joy that allowed her the smile she gave him in the sanctum. The King didn’t look brave when he had scowled at her like a disobedient dog. He looked the very opposite of  _ knightly.  _ He felt the smile he hadn’t realized had grown on his own face fall along with his eyelids. Why was sadness so exhausting? Was the Princess tired too?

* * *

A maidservant stopped Lennon just outside the door to the kitchens, red faced and out of breath. It wasn’t everyday a lowly maid like herself would be asked to perform a duty, much less by the King himself. She had literally dropped the linens in her hands to scurry about the castle looking for the Captain after her brief exchange with King Rhoam. He had seemed adamant about the urgency of the matter, grabbing the nearest castle staff to relay his message, which unfortunately had been her. She would not be the one to fail him. Not now. 

“Master Lennon, Sir?” she nearly gasped, breathless from her hurrying.

“Yes? What is it?” Lennon asked, clearly perplexed at her approach. 

“His Majesty, the King, requests your presence in his office,” she said as she straightened her aprons, now embarrassed at how she must look.

“Now?” he asked, tilting his head, “I must get back to-”

“Beg your pardon, Sir, but he insisted on some level of...quickness,” she winced at herself, cursing her lack of formal words. 

Lennon let out a frustrated exhale and waved off the maidservant whose anxiety was doing nothing to qualm his own. He thought about how he’d left Link alone in their room. Was he old enough to be left alone? At what point do adults do that? Trust children not to wander away? But he knew better than to put his own needs before a summons from King Rhoam. He straightened himself up as much as he could, rubbing his hands across his weary face as if he could wipe away the torment that had made its home there and briskly walked towards the heavy double doors that now held the seat of the Kingdom. Hyrule was now in Rhoam’s hands. He steadied himself before entering, exchanging a quick nod with his men that guarded the door outside. 

King Rhoam sat behind a heavy desk littered with parchment, one hand worrying his beard, the other tapping on the table as if in great annoyance. 

“Master Lennon, have a seat,” the large man’s voice at full volume was resonant, filling the room. It hit Lennon like a blow to the chest. He tried to hide the trepidation coursing through his veins as he promptly followed orders and sat. Lennon had always known Rhoam to have a certain touch of roughness, though the Queen had always dulled his sharpest edges. His eyes, which were once amiable if not stern, held a coldness now that was unsettling to look upon. 

“I will not pretend that you have not heard the rumors,” the King began, folding his hands and placing them before him on the desk. 

“Rumors are a scourge, Your Highness. I pay them no heed,” Lennon licked his drying lips to vent some anxiety, hoping the keep a steady voice.

“These particular rumors, though, are well founded, I hear. I spoke with one of your men earlier. A...Sir Thomas, was it? He shared some interesting information about your son. What's the boy's name again?” Rhoam said, keeping a firm eye on Lennon’s body language, which was growing more tense with every second. 

“Link, Your Highness,” Lennon managed tightly, squeezing his fists under the table. 

“Master Lennon you are not an ignorant man. Surely you can see the shadows that have fallen over Hyrule. Beasts rampage across my land, killing my people. Sheikah prophets are continually calling for the rise of malice once again. I will  _ not  _ be the King that let Hyrule crumble like some fledgling city built upon ash and dust. I will  _ not  _ sit upon a throne of nothing,” King Rhoam seemed to lose himself in his tirade, his whole body working to expel the power in his words. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” Lennon said, unsure of how exactly he was expecting him to reply. The King’s cold eyes bore into him with such a fierceness that he felt like a child in the ornate wooden chair, shrinking away. 

“Listen to me, Lennon! Do you hear what I’m saying?  _ Calamity,”  _ the word rolled off his tongue with such disdain, seeming to sour on his lips as his mouth twisted into a scowl.

“Your Highness, those are stories. Myths. The Sheikah have always held onto the past. Surely-”

“Do you think me a fool?” Rhoam roared as he abruptly stood from his chair, the scraping of its feet against the floor annihilating every other sound in the room, along with every ounce of breath in Lennon’s body. 

“No, Your Highness,” he said, his voice hushed in the offending quiet that had fallen upon them like a heavy snow. 

“Your son has shown remarkable skill with the blade from an age where most boys are still learning to tie their boots. And now I’ve been told he single-handedly assassinated not one, but  _ two  _ Yiga foot soldiers. How old is that boy?” the large man leaned across the table, causing the wood the creak under his weight. 

_ That boy,  _ Lennon thought, the seed of anger growing within him.  _ That boy is my son, not a weapon. _

“He just passed his seventh year, Your Highness,” he said, clenching his teeth tightly. 

“Seven? Goddesses, he’s not much bigger than Zelda and she’s only just...five,” he said, momentarily deflating as he allowed himself to fall back into his chair, causing a flurry of wind that scattered parchments to the floor. Both men sat under the umbrella of tension that was so palpable Lennon could almost feel it across his skin. 

“Regardless, I want him training every day with your guards. Not the recruits, your upper guardsmen. No restrictions. No alterations. When he has completed his days with them, he will spend nights with Master Impa of the Sheikah where he will learn their stealth and survival skills,” the King said, leaning back in his chair.

“Your Highness…” Lennon said, feeling his stomach lurch inside him, “With all due r espect...he is just a boy…” his voice trailed off as his eyes fled for the safety of the table or the floor or anywhere that wasn’t the icy stare of the King.

“He is  _ not  _ just a boy. You and I both know that. It is time to stop pretending. It is only a matter of time before the Master Sword is found. The calamity is upon us. My own Zelda will begin rigorous religious training as well. We will need them both when the time comes”

Lennon felt anger flickering inside him from the embers that had settled deep within his soul. He wanted to flip that damned desk over on Rhoam and see him struggle under the weight of it. He wanted to take Link and run to the edge of the kingdom where he could see his smile again, where he would never have to touch a weapon for the rest of his life. A place he could be free to climb and explore and breathe without the weight of a destiny he never asked for on his small shoulders. He cursed every name of every Goddess he knew.  _ How dare they pick my son.  _ ** _My son. _ ** He felt the sharp sting that was his fingernails biting into the skin of his hands from how tightly he had balled his fists. He took a steadying breath and lifted his eyes to the King again. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” the words felt foreign to his tongue as if the voice of another now occupied him. He hated the man whose voice betrayed his son in favor of his King. The spineless man bound by duty; tasked to hand over the childhood of his only son to be used and abused before he was thrown into the turmoil of calamity. Silently he wished he had listened to Ellia all those years ago. Perhaps they would be curled up near their hearth in Hateno right now, Link spinning a web of endless questions, that golden smile upon his face as Ellia found a way to answer them all, as she always did. 

“Good. He can begin tomorrow. You are dismissed” 

When Lennon finally managed his way back to his chamber, he found Link in the same place he had left him. The boy’s small frame was leaned forward in his chair, his head resting on the table, a small puddle of drool forming from his open mouth as the wooden spoon from his dropped supper dangled loosely in one of his hands.  _ He waited for me.  _ Lennon slid down the back of the chamber door and ran his hands over his face.  _ He cannot wait for me anymore.  _

Later as Lennon tucked his son into the covers of his bed, pushing his slender frame aside so he may join him, he felt the full weight of the King’s words crash upon him. There would be no more chasing of lizards into gardens or using his puppy dog eyes to charm old bakers for sweets. There would only be training and combat and pain. No doubt the men would grow to resent him. They would see him as a child of privilege, given what they had to work so hard for, favored by the King. Resentment is a danger among men. Perhaps Link too would grow to resent  _ him. _

He listened to the way the child’s breathing staggered through his nightmares, watched the way he jerked about in his restless sleep. He briefly thought of waking the boy to ask him what plagued him so. Was it still the Yiga? Was it her death? Did he see it endlessly in a horrendous loop? Or was it something else? Lennon could not comprehend the images that would flash behind his son’s eyes, just as Link himself could not find meaning in them. Castles in the sky. A round flute. A horse with red eyes.The feeling that everything weighed upon him, but lacking the understanding of  _ why?  _ Link would keep those dreams to himself, never sharing the severed memories of someone else’s life that had crept their way into his unconsciousness. 

* * *

Link tried not to let his frustration show on his face, but the creases on his forehead and the way his eyebrows slunk together as his father explained his new schedule betrayed him. He knew that he had seemingly fallen out of his good graces with everyone around him. He knew it in the way that he hadn’t seen Sir Thomas since returning to the castle and the way everyone stared at him with that  _ look  _ that he couldn’t quite define. He had taken to not returning anyone’s glances, training his mind to escape as he stared past their judgement. Now he knew the depth of their objections to him. The boy who let his mother die. The boy who was a killer. The boy who pretended to be a knight.  _ That’s all I really am,  _ he thought to himself as his father sighed and settled before him,  _ just a pretender.  _

“Link, look at me,” Lennon said softly, placing his hands on Link’s knees. 

Their eyes locked for a long moment as Lennon tried to read behind the sea of blue that pooled before him. He questioned how those soft blues could ever seem so foreign to him, as if they weren’t the same blues he had swaddled and cradled all those years ago. The same blues that crinkled with the smile he would tease from the boy with a swift tickle under his arms. Now they stared at him from the face of a stranger. His happy boy replaced with this melancholy child who seemed to question every word that left his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” Link murmured, his feet dolefully dangling from the side of the bed where Lennon had woken him to have this unpleasant conversation.

“What are you sorry for, son?” Lennon asked, watching the way Link’s flustered look melted into something deeper. He wished he had the ability to peer into the child’s mind the way Ellia had. To know the right words to soothe his aching heart. Everything he had said only seemed to harm him further. He passed a hand over his face as Link took a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry I’m not better,” he sighed, “I promise I’ll train very hard” 

Lennon's heart clenched at the dejected conviction that laced Link’s words. He was trying to coax whatever shred of bravery he had left into them as if they would fuel him into the idealized version of himself he seemed to have mentally created, failing to meet his own standards. Lennon wished he could erase the doubt and the guilt and the pain that had settled into his son’s heart like some band of treacherous thieves determined on robbing him of his peace of mind. He missed the way the light would catch his eyes in a smile and the way his laugh bubbled up from his small chest, affecting everyone near with his infectious joy. He sadly wondered if he would ever see that boy again. 

“Link, it is not me that is asking this of you. I would love you even if you never picked up another weapon for as long as you lived” Lennon said, taking one of the child’s small hands into his own, feeling the way they trembled under his touch. 

“Really?” Link asked quietly, finally looking up from the spot on the floor he had been steadily studying. 

“Really. I would love you even if you worked at the bakery and got as round as a wagon wheel” 

“You would?”

Lennon hummed in agreement and sat beside Link on the bed, picking his small frame up from the bed to sit him on his lap, wrapping his strong arms around him. Link melted into his chest. 

“Do I ever tell lies?” Lennon asked, craning his neck so Link could see the way he lifted one of his eyebrows teasingly.

“You told Mama her pumpkin stew was your very favorite but I heard you tell Sir Thomas you hated pumpkins,” Link replied.

“You are an observant boy, aren’t you?” Lennon laughed, the sound turning heavy in his chest as he envisioned his wife, her cheeks steamed pink as she leaned over the cooking pot, the loose strands of her wheat colored hair curling around her soft features. Link’s features. He did favor her so completely. A cold silence settled upon them once more. 

“I miss mama,” Link finally whispered into the silence Lennon left behind in his rumination. 

“I know. Me too”

Lennon took a deep breath, trying to savor the moment of peace which would likely be his last. Today he would order grown men to fight his son. He would watch as they bashed him to the ground. No alterations. No restrictions, per the King's orders. Would Link see it is as a punishment? Would he grow frightened of him? Would he be frightened of Master Impa, the notoriously stern Sheikah guard? He took a deep breath and placed Link on the ground before him, pushing the boy's blonde waves aside to look at his face. 

"Now, are you ready for today?"

"Yes, Father"

And so it began. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it reads like an ending, but there will be more, I promise.


	19. Guilt

Link stood breathless in front of the great Sheikah warrior. His hands were raw, the muscles in his legs weak like gelatin. He had spent the entirety of the day sparring with his father’s men with little to no break. Multiple times throughout the day he would silently plead with his father, “ _ Please,”  _ his eyes would say, “ _ I am so tired”  _ but his father would softly shake his head and push him back into the ring. Though he had managed to be successful in most of his duels, his arms ached and his heart yearned for purer adventure. He wanted to find insects and climb the sides of the castle. He wanted to talk to the sweet old woman with the pastry cart who would sneak him treats in exchange for small favors. Instead, he had to swing his heavy sword and learn to pick himself up time and time again after being knocked hard to the ground. At the moment, what he wanted most of all was to curl into himself and find a dreamless sleep. But it would seem that what Link wanted for himself was no longer relevant. He stood dutifully beside his father watching as the tall Sheikah woman looked down upon him. He had his hood over his head to block out the chilling winds, but the thin fabric did nothing to stop his bottom lip from quivering. 

“Ah, Master Lennon, a pleasure,” the woman began. 

“Master Impa,” Lennon nodded.

“I hear you are to bring me a new recruit. One of great...potential” 

“King’s Orders”

Link scanned the small space beneath his feet without looking up at the adult conversation. He knew better than to assume it required his participation. He pulled his tunic tighter around himself and listened to what new punishment the night would hold. 

“Well, on with it then. Where is he?”

Link heard his father clear his throat and shuffle his feet as if to imply some hidden message that the clever woman seemed to receive. 

“A child?”

Lennon creased his brow and folded his arms. 

“You were not informed?”

“I was told there was to be a young recruit. Not that I was to care for a toddler, Master Lennon. The boy is hardly at your hip. I do not have time to be your nursemaid”

Lennon held back a growl from the back of his throat. 

“He is not a toddler. He has passed his seventh year” Link recognized that tone in his voice. The one that could persuade Link to do anything for fear of his disappointment. The voice he heard in his head when his mother had scolded, “ _ What would your father say?”  _ He wondered if it held power over this woman like it did over him.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance and shifted her hips to lean against the wall, clearly unprovoked. 

“Still small, even for seven” 

Link hated to be called small. He had been taunted with it since he understood what it meant. The other boys in Hateno. The Zora. They all saw him as lesser simply because of his build. He felt like he had to constantly fight to grow taller in their eyes. Now he grew weary of fighting. He raised his face to meet the deep irises that scanned his figure. He knew this Sheikah. They had met before. The familiarity did nothing to quell the unease in the pit of his stomach.

“My, my, if it isn’t the little fellow with the bloody nose from the sparring ground. I did tell you we would meet again, didn’t I?”

Link did not answer. He simply lowered his eyes. 

Impa stilled, seeming to wait for his reply before Lennon answered for him.

“He is a quiet child...now”

Impa crossed her arms and cocked her head to inspect him further. 

“So it would seem. Does he read?”

“Of course,” Lennon scoffed, “He reads quite well for his age. His mother made sure of that”

Link shied away at the mention of her and stood behind his father’s legs. He thought of his mother, their home in Hateno. The way she cradled him in her lap on his small bed with a book in front of them. He liked the adventure books. The stories of heroes and valiant knights that reminded him of his father. Would he ever be brave enough to be a character in one of those stories? 

_ Does she know too? About mother?  _ He wondered, letting the memory wash away.  _ What will she think of me? _

“And his mother is no longer with us, I assume” A statement from the Sheikah. Not a question. Her eyes lingering on the child cowering behind his father’s legs. 

Lennon seemed to question her with his eyes, fearful that any further mention of Ellia would break whatever semblance of calm Link had fallen into. 

“Body language, Master Lennon. Can be quite revealing”

Lennon simply nodded and looked down at Link who had curled one small hand around his father’s knee. The child looked exhausted. His eyes were heavy with deep pockets of fatigue threatening to slide off his cheeks. He was no doubt covered in deep bruises, though he had not complained. King Rhoam had stood watch over his first exertion, no doubt to ensure he didn’t go easy on him. So he hadn’t. He had tried to fight the sickly pride that welled up in his heart every time Link had risen again after a tough fall.  _ Look at my boy,  _ he thought,  _ look how strong he is.  _ He no longer looked strong bathed in the shadows of the castle hallway. He looked frightened and tired. 

“He is to return to me promptly just after sunrise. But, Master Impa, may I ask…”

Impa eyed the man curiously. She had heard of Master Lennon. Of the calm waters that masked the storm within, the steely Captain that commanded respect without words. This man before her was quite different. He was fidgety, constantly reaching down to touch the boy’s head, shifting on his feet, eyeing the exit. The man was  _ nervous. _

_ “ _ What is it, Captain?” 

“I thought not to ask the King...when will he rest? He has received unyielding training throughout the day and I fear he does not...feel well” Lennon’s voice was uncharacteristically soft.

“Ah, so he’s  _ your  _ boy then,” Impa smirked at the man’s attempt to hide his affections. Lennon replied only with a squint of his eyes and a possessive hand on the boy’s back. 

“I will see to it that he is returned to you fresh for training, Captain. We have our ways. Now the boy must come with me. We’ve wasted valuable time already”

Link hesitated at her outstretched hand, an offer to take him into another unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people doing unfamiliar things. Training with the guard was different. He was never very far from his father who kept a watchful eye on his activities. This felt dangerous and daunting and he simply did not want to go. He shuffled further behind his father’s legs like he used to do when he was much younger. He tried hard to find the words to convey his uneasiness but they alluded him like they had done quite a lot as of late. He did not want to be alone. Alone did not feel so very well to him anymore. Alone felt like prison door he would wither behind. He felt the bravery he had stored up slide through him like water through a sieve. He reached for his father’s hands and murmured against his cold skin. 

Lennon knelt before him and took him in. The child’s lip was still quivering, though he could not determine if it was from the cold or fear. He looked like the ghost of his son underneath his dark hood, though he tried his very best to hide it. Gone was the strong soldier mask he had worn throughout the day. This Link was his son. The little boy from before the storm who wanted nothing more than to be carried off to bed and given a warm cup of tea.

“It’s alright, son. I will see you come morning” 

Link wanted to say a great many things. He wanted to say, ‘I don’t want to stay here” or “Please don’t leave me” or “I’m scared” but instead he said nothing, retreating into himself once again. He could only merely squeeze the hand he still held and hope his father could understand like his mother would have. 

“Link…” Lennon sighed and pulled him into a quick embrace. Once nestled into the curve of his father’s neck, Link found the strength to whisper, “ _ I want to go home,”  _ the words burrowing like parasites into Lennon’s skin, worming their way to his already ravaged heart. Lennon pulled back and braced his hands on the boy’s shoulders.

“You are home,” he said, a sad smile on his lips. Link's eyes widened as he kissed him gently on the head before standing and reaching forward to shake Impa’s hand, pulling the woman slightly towards himself to whisper, “Be kind to him. You know not what he’s seen” 

“He will be quite alright, Captain. You may go”

To that, Lennon simply nodded and brushed his hand across the boy’s slumped shoulders as he picked up a brisk pace down the long corridor. Link stood still and watched until the coldness of shadow had swallowed him whole. Then he watched some more. 

“Come on child, let’s go,” Impa said, extending her hand once more.

Link stood still as a gravestone, measuring his breaths. 

_ Be brave, be brave, be brave,  _ he told himself in hopes that if he repeated it enough times it would come true. He gingerly reached for her hand and held it loosely. 

Impa sighed at the child and thought of the princess. It would seem the King was intent on spreading his misery to not only his own child but to this one as well. She wondered what the boy had done to warrant his attention. She pretended not to notice the silent tears that crept from his hood as he stifled his cries and waited for her instruction. At least he was an obedient boy. The melancholy would be an obstacle, but obedience she could work with. 

“I think for tonight, we shall begin slowly. What do you say to a warm meal and a story?”

The usual sharp tongued Sheikah felt her heart softening for the child as he walked silently beside her down the long corridor, occasionally tripped over the uneven surface and hurrying to keep her pace. 

“Allow me to tell you the story of my people and how we’ve come to serve the land of Hyrule…”

* * *

The pub smelled like stale ale and the fading dreams of lesser men. Even the flickering torch light of nearby sconces seemed to dance away from the darkened doorway. Not the cleanest place for the captain to be, but he couldn’t go to his quarters. Couldn’t be alone. Not when all he would see was Link’s face, distressed as it was, shaded under the hood of his coat as he begged for him not to leave him, though in not so many words. But he had left him. What kind of father does that? She wouldn’t have left him.  _ She wasn’t there.  _ She never would be. What would she have done? She would have carried him away. Whisked away on the back of a stolen horse, his dirty blonde waves swimming in the wind with their laughter. They would be cuddled up together near a campfire. Maybe Link would be chasing a firefly, following the twisting trail of its luminescence across the twilight. He would be happy. If the Goddesses truly did need him, surely they could wait until he was older. What use to the kingdom was a heartbroken child never given a chance to heal? 

Lennon plopped down heavily at the bar’s counter and buried himself into his drink. He let his mind be filled with images of happier times, taken awash by memory. His family on the beach in Hateno. How small Link had been. How excited he was to see him, how many times he fell in the sand trying to get to him. How many times he got back up. The radiance that was the sunlight reflected in his eyes. Gods, how he had prayed for Link to inherit those eyes. Her eyes. Those bottomless oceans of blue. He remembered the smell of their Hateno home in the rain. Link’s muffled laughter from under the stairs when he was supposed to be asleep. The tender moments he shared with his wife when sleep finally caught the little rambunctious boy, his mouth open, a deep spot of drool on his thin cotton bedding. Was he sleeping now? Was he dreaming again? 

“Lennon?” a familiar voice broke through the fog of alcohol and memory that had settled on his mind like a wet blanket.

Sir Otto sat timidly beside him, taking a quick glance at the man’s already empty mug of ale as he gestured for more. 

“Otto”

“Where’s Link?” Otto looked around the bar, half expecting to see the little one crouched at Lennon’s feet or tucked away in some far corner. It was unusual to see them apart these days.

“With the Sheikah,” Lennon’s voice was flat, his eyes fixed on the peeling wood of the wall before him as he let the ale slide down the back of his throat. 

“...why?”

Lennon sat his mug down a little too forcefully, causing some of the dark liquid to fly over the top of the rim, staining his uniform sleeves a distasteful color. He stared at it a moment before lazily lifting his eyes to Otto’s. The concern he found there turned to annoyance. He didn’t want anyone’s concern. 

“King’s orders,” he said, punctuating the sentence with another gulp of the bitter liquid, a warmth seeping into his cheeks. 

“I see,” said Otto, raising his hand for a pint of his own. 

“You must be proud of him. To be bestowed such great honors from the King-”

Lennon slammed his empty mug down onto the table, conjuring silence into the busy bar in an instance, every mouth closed excerpt for the mouths left open to gawk at the Captain’s display. 

“I apolo-”

“You know  _ nothing  _ of the  _ honor  _ bestowed upon my son,” Lennon spat at the man, the word  _ honor  _ tasting more bitter than the cheap ale he now reeked of. 

Otto reached a tentative hand out and placed it on the hard ridge of Lennon’s back.

“I’m truly sorry my friend. For everything that’s happened,” Otto lowered his voice as the chatter of the pub slowly began to crescendo again, the audience’s attention waning from a combination of drink and the late hour. 

Lennon allowed himself to slightly deflate, tasting the shame rising in the back of his throat. He had never been an angry man. Why had he taken to shouting? What was happening to him? 

“He was scared,” he finally said, mostly to the rim of his glass, his face turned away from his old friend, as if all his personal failures were written across his features for the world to read.

“Who?”

“Link. When I left him there. With Impa. He said he wanted to go home” 

Otto raised a brow and took a long drink from his glass. 

“I’d be scared too. Master Impa is a formidable woman”

Lennon scoffed, wrapping both of his hands around his glass, watching the bubbles slowly rise from the bottom. 

“I fear I am the only one who sees him for what he is. He’s just a scared little boy, Otto. The King is blinded by prophecy and hearsay,” Lennon said, lowering his voice to keep the conversation more private. It wouldn’t bode well for him to speak ill of the King. Otto hummed in agreement and scooted closer, clearing his throat. 

“Have you heard the castle rumors as of late?”

“I hate rumors”

Otto turned perpendicular to Lennon so he could speak privately as he watched the crowd, eyeing for any spectators that may take interest in their conversation. 

“They say he makes her kneel in prayer at all hours of the day, even in freezing temperatures. The maidservants say they struggle to get her to eat”

Lennon closed his eyes, imaging the tiny blonde Princess shivering in the frigid waters surrounding the statue of the Goddess. It broke his already wounded heart. 

“She’s younger than Link,” he sighed. 

“Aye. At least he has you, Lennon. Our princess suffers alone. No one dares interfere,” he sighed, leaning to support his back on the bar, “It would seem our King is placing the weight of the kingdom on the shoulders of children,” 

A heavy silence hung between them as the cacophony of the bar skirted around their presence. Lennon’s thoughts drifted to Link. What was he doing now? Were they treating him fairly? Did the King dare to harm his son when no one was there to see? What would he do if they did? He had already proven incapable of standing up the King. It was with his blessing his child was training into the night instead of safety asleep in his bed in the first place. He raised his hand for another drink before letting his face fall into his palms. 

“May I ask you something, Lennon?” Otto asked, to which Lennon only grunted in reply. He had lost count at this point of how many pints he’d had. Numbers were arbitrary to him now. 

“Are you sure they haven’t made a mistake?” 

“A mistake” 

“Are you certain your son is the chosen one? How can we truly be sure without the sword?”

Lennon downed the rest of the ale in his glass as Ellia’s voice danced in his head. The

visions. The Goddess of light. Link’s lifeless form in her arms breathing new life from their blessings. 

“I would have run away with him long ago if I wasn’t sure, Otto,” he said, turning to meet the man’s eyes. An unspoken truth between them. Otto nodded and rose from his seat.

“Be careful out here, Captain. The waters have turned tumultuous it would seem,” he said at he ducked out of the doorway, leaving Lennon alone with his glass that had seemed to magically refill every time he looked away. 

“Goodnight,” he said to no one as he downed another glass, laying his head down on the pub counter to dream of home. 

* * *

Impa stood in the doorway and watched the small shape the boy made on the pile of blankets on the floor where he had fallen asleep; the gentle rise and fall of his chest under the thin blanket . It would seem he only slept once the sun had risen and it was time for him to rise as well. Night brought the boy terrors, as evidenced by his rapid breathing and the slurred murmurings that had distracted Impa from her meditation. She listened as he whispered words to hushed to be heard, twisting and turning in the blankets that wrapped around his small legs. The King had told her to expect great things from the child. He believed him to be blessed by the Goddesses themselves. A hero, even. Impa puzzled how such a small boy would carry such a large title as she gently shook him awake. 

“Get up, boy. Time to return to your father”

Link’s eyes flew open as he tried to stand at attention. He knew Master Impa deserved a certain level of respect. She consulted with the King personally. She even worked with the Princess. Link thought about the Princess in the tiny room under the castle where he currently stumbled, trying to work life back into his tingling legs. It would be much too cold for her here, he thought. He hoped that Master Impa would let the Princess learn her history out in the gardens. She seemed much happier there. He didn’t give much thought to what would be better for himself. He assumed it wouldn’t matter much anyway. He would always be told what to do. That was his job now. So he stood quietly and waited. 

“Still have nothing to say?” the Sheikah woman asked, hands on her hips, surveying the child before her. His straw colored haired lay like a tumbleweed, disheveled in all directions. Under his eyes lay a deep curtain of fatigue that looked unnatural on a child so young. She made a note to begin teaching him mediation sooner rather than later. 

“Are you quiet because you want to be or because you have to be?” she asked him, the question seeming to take him off guard. No one had thought to ask him why he stopped speaking. In fact, they had seemed to prefer it. 

The question sat awkwardly in his mind. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what had happened to his words. They used to come as easily to him as thinking. In fact, there hadn’t been much of a threshold between the two at all before this waking nightmare had begun. His thoughts had had free access to his tongue so the world had free access to his thoughts. But now? There were things he would rather keep to himself. He was afraid for the world to know how frightened he was. The King expected a great number of things from him that he wasn’t sure he could give. But he would try his very hardest. He had decided that trying his very hardest and pretending to be more worthy was the best way to give those around him what they wanted. So that is what he had tried to do. He didn’t know how to say any of those things to the woman before him. A woman he wasn’t quite sure if he trusted. So he said nothing at all and hoped she would accept his silence. 

Impa sighed and placed her hands on her hips, cocking her head to look down at the child. Silence was a double edged sword. It meant he would never question her, but it also meant that others could interpret his silence how they wish, filling his empty space with their own thoughts. Would she ever truly know the boy before her? Could she trust the man he would become if she didn’t learn him now? 

“Come boy,” she said, reaching out her hand to him, “we best not leave your father waiting”

He took her hand and together they traveled the dark hallways back to the surface.


	20. Perseverance

Slowly, Impa and Link made their way to the surface. Many of the Sheikah stopped to ogle at the diminutive Hylian who trailed at their leaders coat tales. He was dirty, but appeared obedient, stopping promptly when asked and never speaking a word. The Sheikah knew the prophecies. This child simply did not live up to the image of the hero in their minds. They wondered on the lucidity of the King. If it wasn’t for her birthright, they would have questioned the princess too. She had shown no signs of powers, despite her studious praying. They sent their own silent prayers forward that the calamity would be held at bay long enough for the real hero to be found, lest they be left with only two seemingly derelict children at their defense. 

The light hit Link’s eyes like a well shot arrow, wincing as his vision adjusted from the dark of the underground corridors to the jubilant sunrise that was embracing Hyrule castle. He felt the warmth in his bones. He was ready to see his father again. Although he was treated as if he were one of the soldiers, Link certainly did not feel like one. He still felt very small. Inadequate. Though he had not the words to express it, he longed to be cared for like he always had. Like she always had always done for him. She had always been there to run her fingers through his tangles, stitch the holes in his clothes, and wipe away his tears. Now his knees were bruised and his shirt was in tatters and there was no mother to smooth away the pain. He was on his own. But at least he could still see his father. He craned his neck as they neared the training grounds, his eyes lifting from one form to another, hoping to catch a familiar shape in the crowd.

Sir Otto saw the pair approaching and ran to meet them, bowing in reverence to the high official. Though the Sheikah remained distant from the Hylians, it was common knowledge Master Impa was a coveted resource to the King, particularly as his interest in Sheikah prophecies had grown. 

“I am here to return the boy to the Captain, where is he?” Impa spoke, her air of authority so heavy that even Link could feel Sir Otto’s apprehension. 

“He is...indisposed at the moment. I am to take the boy in his stead,” Sir Otto replied with a bit of hesitation. 

“Indisposed” 

Impa looked down at Link who wore his disappointment like a mask across his face. She remembered his reluctance to leave his father’s side. No doubt he was greatly looking forward to this reunion. If this boy was to be trained as a Champion, he would have to grow out of his more childish tendencies. Seven years or not. He and the princess had much growing to do if Hyrule had any hope.

“Master Impa, I do have orders from the Captain. He will continue his training regime, I assure you,” Sir Otto said, shifting a bit on his feet as he looked down at Link who stood still beside the Sheikah warrior. It was curious to him that the boy had not spoken up for himself. He remembered Link as a vibrant young child always eager to question. His thoughts drifted back to what Lennon had told him in the pub and he sighed, hoping to save the boy from his current imprisonment.

“Alright then, go on boy,” Impa declared as she quickly turned on her heels, barely disturbing the dust beneath her feet. She had places to be.

Link stood hesitant as Sir Otto looked down on him. His father had promised. He said he would see him in the morning. Yet, it was morning and his father was not there. He sent Sir Otto, just like he sent him all that long ago to take him from his home where he was happy with his mother. Why had he been excited to come here? He wished he would have hidden away. He was so very good at hiding, his mother had always told him that. She had forbid him from playing hide and seek at a young age because she never could find him and would always end up tear stricken as she desperately called for him that the game was over. She would hold him beyond what he felt was necessary after he scrambled out of his hiding place. She didn’t realize that because of his small stature he could fit just about anywhere and he knew about every place he could fit because he had decided to find them all. Sir Otto would have never found him and he would have never come out, even long after Sir Otto’s horse was rode away. Then his mother would still be alive and his father could still come and visit and not make empty promises he wasn’t able to keep like seeing him in the morning.

“Have you had breakfast?” Sir Otto asked gently, kneeling down before the child who refused to look farther up the man body than his boots. 

Link shook his head. 

“Come on, you have a long day ahead, little man,” Sir Otto said as he put a hand on the boy’s back and led him into yet another day where he would be told what to do. Puffing up his small chest as best he could, Link decided to make the most of it. If only to prove he could.

* * *

Training proved to be a different beast without his father around to temper the men. Some of them had grown quite fond of the boy when he had traveled with them; laughing at his curious nature and his wild spirit. But that was before, when he was just Lennon’s boy and not the King’s new pet. Now they had to be compared to a  _ child.  _ Remarkable as he was with a blade, it did not sit well with the regiment that a small boy could so quickly garner the attention they had worked so hard to receive. If it were in his power, Link would have gladly given all his newfound attention away. 

As the training began it's early stages, Link was able to find a sliver of peace in what they called conditioning. He let his mind wonder as he ran laps around the grounds and lifted heavy objects up and over his head again and again. Intimidating as she was, Link had been enraptured by Impa’s stories of the Sheikah. She talked of shadow walking and magic; things the world had tried to convince him were not real. He was enthralled by the idea that one day he could walk in the shadows too. Unnoticed. Unheard. Unbothered. He imagined himself clad in the sleek Sheikah armor as he climbed yet another wall, his focus broken by a sharp whistle. He turned sharply at the noise, wondering if it was his father who had returned. But the sight of the King standing behind Sir Otto silenced all his thoughts. He was here to watch him spar. The thought soured in his stomach like old milk.

“Attention, men!” Sir Otto echoed across the empty space, “His Majesty has requested audience during our duels this afternoon. I expect you will not disappoint”

The knights bowed in reverence to their monarch and stood at attention, awaiting orders. Link could feel eyes upon him. It was hard for him to blend in when he barely stood at most of the mens' hip level, but he did is best, mimicking the way they held their shoulders so straight and their eyes dead ahead.

“Begin with the boy,” King Rhoam ordered as he took his seat at the side of the open space.

Sir Otto hesitated briefly before motioning for Link and the second youngest man to step forward. Though he couldn’t spare the boy completely, he would at least try. An attempt that he soon realized was futile. Link disarmed the man in a manner of seconds, his speed nearly bewitching to watch. He moved fluidly like the wind, his small body seeming to morph forward before the other man could think to react. The King raised an eyebrow and Sir Otto took his cue to continue.

Link felled several more men before his exhaustion started to kick in. By now he was sporting a swollen lower lip and a heavy heave in his chest as he forced air into his tired lungs. He had found that if he tried hard enough, he could shut out the world when he fought. He was no longer Link, the little boy from Hateno, he was instead whatever he thought the men wanted to see. A knight. A warrior. A hero, perhaps. The movements came second nature to him, almost as if he were recovering a memory long lost. Sir Otto motioned for Link to take his leave when the King interrupted. 

“He will stay,” the finality in his voice left no room for argument. 

So he stayed. 

He fought several more men, his weakened state and the men taking an opportunity to best him before the King resulting in him meeting the earth quite harshly more than once. But each time he stood again. His perseverance seemed to please the King. But now Link no longer felt the peace he had found earlier. Now his arms hurt. And his back. And other places on his body that he hadn’t thought could be sore. He scanned the area once more for his father, his momentary lapse of judgement causing him to catch a swift blow to his upper abdomen. He fell to the ground in a heap, feeling as all the air in his body seemed to leave him at once. He choked out a cough as he tried to look through the stars that danced across his vision at the man who was standing proudly before the King with his back turned. Link closed his eyes and when he opened them again, the man had taken his place on the ground, his practice sword disturbing the loose soil at it skittered across the earth. He hadn’t even remembered moving. 

“Do continue!” the King bellowed from the sidelines. Sir Otto looked at Link before motioning for another to enter the ring. Sir Thomas.

Link felt something within him stir when he looked upon Sir Thomas, his eyes full of worry though he tried to keep his composure. Link coughed again before catching his footing as he stumbled backwards. It seemed as if his body no longer wished to accept air, as every intake he attempted resulted in a sharp pain down his side. The sword suddenly felt very heavy in his hands. He tried not to grimace, but he could tell Sir Thomas had noticed. The man lowered his sword and turned his attention to Sir Otto.

“Sir Otto, pardon me but, he is clearly injured,” Sir Thomas said, his head lowered to respect his place. 

“He will stay,” the King repeated his sentiment from earlier. Sir Otto shot a firm look towards Sir Thomas who thought better than the question the King.

He nervously turned back to Link who nodded to him as if to say, “it’s okay”. Unlike the other men, Sir Thomas could see through Link’s facade. He saw the fatigue and the heartache as if it were branded into his skin. He remembered the shivering child in his arms as he picked him up from his mother’s grave. The coldness of his tears upon his cheek when he had held him close. What the child needed was a warm embrace and a chance to grieve properly, not an endless round of duels. But his hand had been forced. An awkward stillness fell between the pair, each unwilling to move. 

“Begin!” King Rhoam shouted at them.

Link took a deep breath as he lifted his sword and locked eyes with Sir Thomas. He lunged forward, knocking swords as Sir Thomas blocked the blow. He was amazed at Link’s raw strength yet again. He spun around to parry the next round of attacks before falling into step. A dance, of sort.He caught Link’s eye as they both caught their breathe. It took him a moment to realize what he was doing. He gasped inwardly when it finally hit him.  _ He’s going easy on me.  _ He raised an eyebrow at the boy before joining him in the dance. They were to give the King a show. They continued on for several minutes, putting on a grand display of all the boy’s talents. He knocked Sir Thomas to ground more than once, somehow managing to avoid disarming him. Sir Thomas eagerly righted himself and dove back in, hitting the small boy back with forces that felt wrong given the circumstance, but Link was able to deflect them nonetheless. Finally, Link slid underneath his last blow, landing a swift strike to Sir Thomas’ wrist causing him to drop his blade and surrender. The King stood from his seat and loudly applauded the pair as they tried to catch their breath. 

“Excellent work!” he beamed, “I recognize you, knight. You’re the one that brought the boy here back from Hateno, am I correct? You battled the Yiga together?”

Link stiffened at Sir Thomas’ side.  _ Yiga. _ The word cut through him like a heated blade. He felt any inner peace he had managed to shuffle together crumble at the very mention of their name. Suddenly he felt very small again.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Sir Thomas knelt before the monarch, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The King hummed in affirmation before turning to Sir Otto, “Keep this one in mind, Sir Otto. Along with the others we discussed” he said before turning away. 

When the King was out of earshot, Sir Otto dismissed the rest of the men and turned to Sir Thomas.

“Keep us in mind for what?” he asked. 

Sir Otto sighed and looked down at Link, who had sat on the ground, resting his head between his knees in hopes that no one would notice the grimace across his face. He was so very tired. Tired from fighting not only the world but also himself. He closed his eyes and tried to fight the images of Yiga and death and blood that were forcing their way into his mind. Instead he thought of Mipha and her sharp teeth that made him giggle. He thought of swimming. He thought of the wind as it tickled the back of his neck. He thought of the collection of shiny trinkets under his bed in Hateno. A shell. An oddly shaped rock. He took a deep breath as his consciousness battled itself. 

“Now is not the time,” Sir Otto replied, “Have you seen Lennon?”

“No, where is he?” Sir Thomas replied, curious himself. It was unlike the man to miss training. 

“Probably still asleep then. I had to drag him off the streets last night. The old fool drank himself into a stupor” 

Sir Thomas’ looked down at Link, noticing his shoulders had loosened and his head had fallen to the side. He knelt down and placed a hand on the child’s back; slow and steady breaths. He had fallen asleep on the ground. His mind had won its battle.

“Link’s not the only one struggling”

“Indeed” Sir Otto replied.

“When does he meet with the Sheikah again?” 

“Nightfall”

Sir Thomas lifted Link’s now familiar form onto his shoulder and raised a brow at Sir Otto’s confused glance.

“Unless you have further plans for him,” Sir Thomas inquired.

“You are dismissed. Both of you,’ he replied with a nod as Sir Thomas set off to the castle, the sleeping hero in his arms. 

* * *

Lennon woke to a dull ache in the back of his head and the feeling of cotton in his  mouth. As his eyes cracked open he registered the bright sunlight streaming into the room.  _ Where am I?  _ He thought as he rolled over, bumping into something beside him. 

“Link?” he whispered as he inspected the bundle. A quiet panic seized his heart as he took in the sight of his son, who was dirty and bloodied, lumped beside him on the floor of their chambers. His fears were quelled when Link let out a small cough and turned, reaching out for something in his sleep. Lennon lay back down slowly and pulled him close. 

Slowly his memory began to return to him. The pub. How many drinks had he had? He turned his head as something caught his eye. A folded piece of parchment sticking out of Link’s ripped pocket. He was going to have to get the boy new clothes. Perhaps a bath too. When was the last time he washed the dirt from his hair? He took the note from the boy’s pocket and unfolded it with one hand, the other holding his sleeping form close. 

_ Captain - we’ve covered both your absences until nightfall. Figured Link needed a nap after defeating almost the entirety of Hyrule’s upper knights today. You would be proud of him. Also, next time you need a drinking buddy take me instead - Sir Otto is dull. -- Sir Thomas _   
  


Lennon felt the foreign sensation of a smile across his face before the shame settled in, stealing it away before he could feel the affects. He cursed himself for drinking himself into such a state he missed an entire training. He had missed Link’s apparently spectacular display of skill. He had…

“ _ Shit,”  _ he murmured under his breath. 

He hadn’t been there to retrieve Link from Master Impa as he’d promised. If he knew anything about Link, he knew how the boy felt about promises. As any small child felt about promises; sacred as a cross of the heart. His heart ached as he pictured Link looking for him. The hurt that no doubt had settled upon his small face at his absence. Yet another failure. 

“I’m sorry, son,” he said into the boy’s hair as he held him close. He felt Link stretch underneath him and loosened his grip, looking down to see two misty blue looking up at him. 

“Where were you?,” Link asked groggily, not stopping to ask how he came to be in his father’s chambers, sleeping midday in a heap of blankets on the floor instead of continuing his knights training as he was supposed to.

“I’m sorry, I...wasn’t feeling well,” Lennon replied, “But I heard you beat almost all of my men. I’m very proud of you. They are a tough lot” 

Lennon thought he saw the ghost of a smile dance across Link’s lips, though they remained slightly swollen from a blow he no doubt took in the process of his accomplishment. 

“Thank you” he said against his skin, laying his head back down on his father’s arm. 

Link had never been one to nap. Ellia had tried desperately to get the child to settle so she could do things other than chase him off the roof and ensure he didn’t invite a stray lynel into their home. But he was impossibly full of energy, sometimes even staying awake through the night. He remembered one afternoon when Link had barely turned three when they spent the entire day swimming. Link took to the water like a fish, though he was a terrible swimmer. Everything he did, he did with joy and level of exuberance that was unparalleled. Swimming was no different. Lennon had to spend the entire day protecting the small child from himself as he sank under the water time and time again in search of the perfect shell to take back home.

He remembered feeling his body still on their long walk home, sharing a curious look with Ellia who peaked behind his shoulder to confirm what couldn’t be true...their bolt of lighting had lost its spark and fallen asleep in the middle of the day. The mischief in her eyes had them practically sprinting home, though careful not to disturb him. Lennon had laid the sleeping child down on his bed beneath the stairs with the caution one might take while laying the Queen’s crown down upon her head. He couldn’t remember the specifics of what happened next, only that Ellia had dragged him upstairs by the collar, catching him in a deep kiss that warned of more to come. Lennon wasn’t sure how Link had slept through it all, but he didn’t rise for another hour, his blonde bed head poking over the top of the stairs to beg for snacks as Ellia giggled and sank into the sheets of their bed.

Lennon looked down at the child in his arms. Though he had grown taller, more muscular, he was still the same cherub faced baby of his memories. He wondered if he would ever be able to separate his son from the hero. If he could ever hope to raise him how Ellia would have, filing him to the brim with a love so deep he nearly drowned in it. He decided that was a thought for another day, for this day had granted them a small pleasure. An afternoon free of obligation.

“What should we do with our afternoon, then? You don’t have to go back to Master Impa for several hours”

Link mumbled something against his arm before Lennon raised him up to hear what he said.

“Can we sleep a while longer?” he asked, much to Lennon’s surprise. 

“Of course, we can do whatever you’d like”

Link settled back into his father and quickly fell asleep. For once, his mind held back the nightmares and he slept soundly in his father’s arms. Lennon held his small body and felt as his silent tears rolled around the contour of his smile. He wondered if Ellia would be proud of their son too. He felt her absence like a cavern inside his soul. He prayed that he would be half the parent she had been, for Hyrule needed a hero, but the hero still needed a father. Could he live up to the task? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the trajectory of this one quite a bit somewhere in the middle. I hope it doesn't read as disjointed. I had intended for this chapter to have another healthy dose of sadness, but I felt they needed a reprieve. So I gave them one. I hope you enjoyed it as well. Our Little Hero still has that blasted sword to find and as I'm sure you can guess, it won't be a grand adventure for him.


	21. To Be Important

Link learned he had built rapport with some of the other knights, though not all of them. Where before he was met with indifference by those who did not know him, now he received solemn nods of the head or gentle pats on his back. Others still cut him deep with resentment in their eyes; embarrassed at having been bested by a mere child. But Link was quickly growing more durable, focused, and sharp. He soon found some measure of peace in the repetitive nature of fighting. Parry. Block. Spin. Again. He trusted his muscle memory to carry him as he let his mind wander away, forever running from the thoughts that crept inside when he let down his guard.

It was the little things that seemed to trigger him. A wind chime. A swift breeze. The smell of metal. A distant woman’s voice. Portions of memories that sparked an avalanche of emotion. One second he was fighting, the next he was back in Hateno; watching it all over again. It angered him. It was a battle he didn’t know the rules for. But training filled those spaces with something else.  _ Don’t get hit. Move faster. Roll this way.  _ These thoughts his mind seemed to fill in at some level of automaticity, leaving him mostly empty. There was a hollow tranquility to the emptiness. It was the best he had.

The nights were the hardest for him, particularly those nights spent with Impa. Sometimes he learned history, studying old tomes until his eyes were so heavy the letters seemed to melt together on the page. Other times they meditated, the older woman swatting him back awake when he eventually fell asleep. But other times, he learned stealth. She taught him how to silence his footsteps and dance with the shadows. He liked those nights best, though he showed no preference either way, a fact that deeply perturbed his now mentor. 

Master Impa was thoroughly perplexed by the young boy. He consistently refused to talk to her, or anyone else that wasn’t his father. She took it as a sign of disobedience and disrespect even though he followed her every word without question. Even after countless scoldings, he remained speechless. She had even tempted him to speak to her by bribing him with sweets and a night off. But he had held firm, only a slight quiver to his lip giving away any of the internal turmoil she knew had to coil around inside him to cause him to be in such a state. She had to, at the very least, admire his dedication. If she could translate that level of stubbornness into a sense of steadfast duty she would have an infallible warrior on her hands. 

But Link had decided that it was best to keep his words to himself from now on. They were, after all, one of the few things left he had control of. He knew it upset the Sheikah elder when he did not respond to her but he was also unsure of what exactly she expected of him. So he stayed quiet and he listened. Sometimes at night he would hear the Princess learning with Impa as well. He didn’t understand all of what she was learning. He had no knowledge of sacred realms or sealing powers but he liked to hear her small voice whisper across the cold stones. 

The Princess received a special room in which she was to learn, equipped with a hearth to keep her warm and two guards to keep watch in the doorway while Link looked on from his smaller, colder room across the hall. He watched as she rested her small face on her palm when he thought she looked particularly tired. He watched as Impa was kind to her in ways she was not to him; patting her softly on the back and speaking in soft tones he wasn’t aware she was capable of using. While Master Impa had never been particularly unkind to him, she tended to treat him with a reserved toughness, as if she expected more from him than he was willing to give. She treated the Princess as if she were her own child, tucking stray hairs behind her ears and covering her small shoulders when she fell asleep. It made his heart ache for his own emptiness. He was still getting used to sleeping alone. If he closed his eyes hard enough he could almost feel the warmth of his mother’s kiss on his temple when she thought he was sleeping but he was just resting his eyes. He found it hard to sleep without the warmth of someone else wrapped around him.  _ Such a cuddler,  _ she had told him. He tried not to dwell on it. He had to be grown now. 

Link could see that the Princess’ eyes still sparkled, even through her sadness. He wondered if the Princess had a light within her too just like his mother had told him about himself, although he could never feel it. Some days, he wasn’t even so sure there was a light there at all. Some days, he thought, it was just a sweet nothing his mother had promised him. The thought made an ugly guilt claw at his heart. A heart that perplexingly was constantly calling him to the girl across the hall. Confusion added to grief made a very upside down little knight. 

One night, after rereading the passage from the history book before him, he found himself drifting towards her open doorway, only to fall flat on his bottom after finding contact with the sheathed end of the guard’s sword. 

“No commoners near the Princess,” the man huffed as Link picked himself off the floor. 

He didn’t know what a commoner was or why the guard thought he was one. He found himself quietly upset as he shrunk back into his own space. His hands were cold and his feelings were hurt and in that moment all he wanted to do was shut his eyes and find surrender in his own daydreams. He buried his face in his book until Impa returned sometime later, sitting before him so quietly he almost missed her entrance. 

She took a deep breath before crossing her legs and resting her hands on her lap, eyeing him curiously from across the table. She quirked an eyebrow at his furrowed brow and the slight red rim around his eyes, noticing the slight change in his demeanor when he noticed her presence in the room. 

“You are of similar age, you and the princess. It is no surprise you are intrigued by her” 

Link pretended not to listen. 

“But you must know...she is not another village child for you to befriend. In fact, she is not like an ordinary child at all. You must erase such thoughts from your head”

She noticed the way his eyes fell to his lap, breaking his feigned attempt at reading while he ignored her again. 

“Even if you are who they say you are, which I refuse to believe until you’ve proven it, you and her will always be a step apart. She will always be above you. As well as everyone else. As it typically is for one of her stature. She is royalty. Her dedication will always be to the crown. Yours will be to its defense, no matter what the Goddesses have in store for you”

Link stared at the folds in his pants as Impa’s words rattled around in his head. He wasn’t quite sure what he had done wrong to deserve this particular speech. He had done everything that was asked of him. He had worked as hard as he thought he could. He was tired and confused. His mother had never taught him that sometimes people are better than other people for reasons they had no control over. She had always taught him about kindness and the content of people’s hearts. She had told him that his heart was kind and that was what mattered most. Had she been wrong about that too? Had she just been trying to make him feel better about being unimportant? 

“Though I know very little about what brought you here, I can assure you that your life and the life of the Princess have been very different. The only service you will be deemed worthy of providing for her is giving your life in her defense. And that would be your greatest honor”

He could think of other things that he would enjoy more than dying for someone he did not know very well. Like playing in the garden and counting spiders. Or catching snakes to feel their strong muscles slide under their scales in his hands. It had always made him laugh even as his mother looked on horrified. But not even that memory could pull him above the surface of the melancholy building within him. He lifted his eyes to his book yet again, ignoring the way Master Impa eyed him carefully from across the table.  _ Master Impa must be important _ , he thought to himself as his own significance seemed to shrivel within him. He ran his hand over the page, tracing the outline of the illustration. A small boy brandishing a sword. On his head was a long, oddly pointed cap like one an old man might wear to bed. Link thought he was too small to have a sword so large. He wondered if it had been someone else’s. 

“Ah,” Impa perked up at the motion, “the Hero of Time. He was but a little thing like you when he realized his role for Hyrule. A beacon of bravery, that one. Though his story is quite tragic at the end”

A noise from the hallway brought their attention away from the book and to the small figure back-lit by the gentle flickering of torches. 

“Retiring so soon, my Princess?” Impa asked with a softness that Link was determined not to let hurt his feelings once again. 

“The King has summoned her, Master Impa. More prayer, as per usual,” the stoic guard replied. 

Link peeked around the cover of his book to look at her. She was little like him, twisting her gown in her hands before lifting her heavy eyelids to take a peek at him. He gasped as he met her eyes and shrunk behind his book before slowly peeking out once more to find she was still looking at him. She smiled shyly and he thought his heart was fit to burst. He wondered if she even remembered playing with him or if he was important enough to be remembered by someone like her. He thought maybe she was confused and just thought he was important enough. He hoped Impa wouldn’t correct her if that was the case, though he knew she would. She liked reminding him of his place, but he liked pretending. 

“Goodnight, Impa,” her voice was small, soft like the underside of a kitten. 

“Goodnight, my Princess” Impa replied before turning to eye Link, who had retreated behind the pages of his book once more, though she could see the tips of his ears were dusted with red. 

_ I’ve got my hands full,  _ she thought to herself as she used a hand to lower the book from his face, which was just as red as his ears. 

“Are you done?” she asked him, to which he enthusiastically nodded. 

“Good. Now, I have some business to attend to. I assume you know your way to your father’s quarters?” 

He nodded again. 

“I would also assume you would enjoy spending the night with him instead of me?”

Link looked at her blankly. He usually only got to see his father during the day and that was during training where he had very little time to spend with him without the company of others. The sun had only just gone down a few hours before. His father would not be expecting him until morning.

“Go on then,” she said, quietly amused by his confusion. 

He studied her a moment before running down the hallway. 

* * *

Link knocked at the door for several minutes with no response. He knocked until his knuckles were sore and he didn’t want to knock anymore. He even whispered, “ _ it's me,”  _ when he thought no one was looking. But still, the door remained closed and silent. He wondered where he should go. Where his father would have gone without him. He squeezed his hands as he looked around the hallways, dimly lit by smoldering torches. Most people in the castle were in their chambers, save for a few maids doing their nightly rounds. One particular maid caught his eye and sparked something in his memory. It was the same maid who had helped to comb his hair just weeks before at the Queen’s funeral. He ran up to her without a thought of what he was going to do next as he shyly tugged on her sleeve. 

“Yes?” she said curtly as she turned around before lowering her gaze to find him standing awkwardly at her feet, “My, my if it isn’t the Captain’s little prince. Can I help you, little one?”

He opened his mouth as if to speak and then coughed uncomfortably as he thought of what to say. 

“Are you looking for your father?” 

He nodded as she knelt down before him, balancing the basket of linens she was holding on her folded knees. 

“You should check the training grounds. He spends his nights there now, you know”

He did a small courteous bow before turning to run down the hallway. He only made it a few steps before something within him stopped his feet and turned him back in her direction. She had only just risen from her feet when he pulled on her sleeve again. 

“Oh?” she asked, startled at his sudden reappearance.

“ _ Thank you,”  _ he whispered with a small smile before nodding and continuing on his way. 

“You’re welcome, little one,” she grinned as she watched him disappear in the shadows. 

* * *

Lennon closed his eyes and let loose his breath along with his arrow. It hit its target true in the middle with a satisfying thud. He knelt down and took another swig from his now lukewarm mug of ale at his feet. He grimaced and spat it out before knocking another arrow.

“Dad?”

He closed his eyes again.  _ I’m not drunk enough to hear voices, am I?  _ He thought to himself. He rolled his shoulders and felt the breeze. He let go of the arrow and opened his eyes in time to watch as it hit the very edge of the target, toppling the circular bale of hay to its left side before hitting the dirt with a small plume of dust. He groaned to himself as he reached for another arrow. 

“What are you doing?”

This time the voice was louder, closer. He spun on his heel and dropped his bow to the ground at the sight of his son standing in the moonlight. He seemed to possess a heavenly glow as he stood there, taking in what must have been the strange sight of his father shooting targets well into the night.  _ Am I dreaming? _

_  
_ “Link?” 

Then he smiled. It was small and uncertain, but it was there. He smiled and walked briskly towards him. Lennon dropped down on one knee and held open his arms, which took the child in like a drowning man takes in air. He took a moment to relish the feeling of his small body. A familiar shape in a now unfamiliar world. 

“What are you doing out here?!” Lennon asked him as he held him out to take a look at him.

“Master Impa said I could go,” he said quietly.

“Did you get in trouble?” Lennon worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Master Impa wasn’t known for her patience or her kindness. Even with Link broken as he was, he knew the true boy that lay beneath those waters. One that could no doubt perturb the serious Sheikah if he decided to surface again. 

“No. The Princess left. Then she said I could leave too,” Link said, gaining his confidence the more he spoke, “but you weren’t in your room”

“It’s your room too,” Lennon reminded him before settling back on his heels, “it’s just...lonely without you, you know?”

“I know” 

They stood there a moment, listening to the cadence of the Castletown crickets and the far away sounds of the night life beyond the castle walls. Normal life seemed to spiral on around them despite the unmovable pit they had both found themselves in. Lennon sighed and ruffled the boy's hair as he stood to his feet. 

“Hey Dad?” Link asked, looking up at him with the moonlight dancing in the blues of his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Are you important?”

Lennon’s brows seemed to lurch together as he pondered why he would ask such a question. He had forgotten the many questions that used to pour from the child’s mouth on any given day. Questions that either had no answer or were only asked just so he could hear his own voice. A part of him warmed inside at the memory of a younger Link perched on his shoulders pondering why the clouds were stuck in the sky and whether or not he could grow tall enough to touch one if he ate enough food. 

“Um, I suppose as Captain I have some level of importance. Why do you ask?” he said as he watched Link run the hem of his shirt nervously between his fingers. 

“Only important people talk to the Princess,” Link mumbled as he looked down at his feet. 

Lennon found the smile that had found its way to his face begin to lose its pull as he considered the implication of Link’s question. 

“Who told you that?” he asked him, a little heat rising in his voice. 

“Master Impa,” Link mumbled again.

“Link, look at me,” Lennon said as he knelt down again and took his small, now calloused hands in his own. 

“Do you know why you’re here? Why your King is having you train like a grown man when you should be playing with the other boys? Why you have to waste away in depths of that dreadful castle all night long with that-” he balled his fists to keep from letting out the string of insults he felt rising in the back of his throat, “do you know why you have to learn ancient history and Sheikah stealth instead of running and being a  _ child  _ like you have every right to be?” his voice was as firm as the grip he had on Link’s hands. Link looked him hard in the eyes but did not look away. 

“Because I killed someone and I didn’t protect Mama and...and…” Link’s voice trailed off as his throat began to tighten. 

“No!” Lennon nearly yelled, startling Link who quickly sucked in his next trembling breath as he shrunk under his father’s gaze. 

“No. That’s not it at all, Link,” Lennon lowered his voice and relaxed his grip before reaching to brush away the silent tear that fell down Link’s wounded face. 

“You are here because you are the most important person in all of Hyrule. Maybe even  _ more  _ important than the Princess” he explained as Link searched his eyes, confusion painted across his features. 

“Me?” Link questioned with a hand to his chest. 

“Come with me son, I want to show you something,” Lennon said as he held out his hand. Link took it gently and the two walked in silence through the darkened corridors of the castle until they came upon the clearing Link recognized as the Queen’s gardens. 

Lennon settled them on the edge of the pool as the gentle eyes of the Goddess statue looked over them. 

“This is a Goddess statue. The Queen used to pray here. The Princess prays here too, sometimes,” Lennon broke the silence as he pulled Link up to sit beside him. The boy looked up at the statue with wonder in his eyes. 

“The Goddess is said to only speak to those of her own blood. To the Queen. And hopefully one day, our Princess too,” he continued to explain. Link turned to look at him, his attention fully focused.

“But she spoke to your mother once. Do you want to know what she told her?” Lennon asked gently as he put an arm around the boy’s shoulders. Link nodded as fresh tears gathered behind his eyes. 

“She told her that you were her light. The light of Hyrule. One day she will call upon you to protect the land from a great darkness. It is you she has chosen, Link. Not me. Not Master Impa, or anyone else you think is  _ important.  _ But you, Link. You are the one. You are our Hero” 

Link’s breath stuttered as he turned to look at the Goddess statue once more. He stared unmoving at her face for what felt like forever before he leaned into his father’s touch and let out a deep breath. 

“Why me?” he whispered into his father’s chest as Lennon rubbed his back with slow movements of his thumb. 

“Only the Goddesses know, Link. It is not up to us to question their will. Your mother knew it. I believe the Queen knew it as well. I’m just sorry it took me so long to see it,” he sighed, “I’m also sorry for what it means for your life. You will forever be a sword for Hyrule, despite what you want for yourself. If I could change it for you, I would, I promise. I would take any burden for you. But this one I cannot,” he choked out those last words before burying his face in Link’s hair. 

“It’s okay, Dad,” Link replied as he pat the hand that sat in his lap, “I’m okay” 

Lennon stifled his tears as he pulled Link into his lap and brushed his wavy blond hair from where it had stuck to his face with his own tears. 

“So next time that curdled old _fool_ Master Impa even  _ thinks _ about making you feel unimportant, you remember that, okay?” Lennon implored as he searched Link’s face. He felt the laugh bubble up in his chest before he heard it escape his mouth. He wasn’t sure when the last time he had heard his child laugh was, but he soaked up the sweet sound as if it were his dying breath. 

“She would hit you with the big stick if she heard you say that!” Link laughed. 

“She hits you with sticks?!” Lennon nearly burst as his jaw threatened to fall from his face. 

“No way, I’m too fast,” Link smiled as he leapt from his father’s chest with renowned energy, inviting his father into a long overdue game of chase. 

“Hey, get back here!” Lennon shouted with a laugh after the boy as he tripped through the overgrown weeds of the garden, the bushes breathing in the life of Link’s laughter as he outmaneuvered his father until they fell in a jumble at the feet of the statue that seemed to smile down at them in the moonlight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! I've had a lot going on in my personal life and fell into a routine where reading was more helpful than writing. But I wanted to add to this story because I can't stand to see it incomplete. I still think about little Link all the time. I hope you enjoy the extra long chapter and I hope to be back soon. (:


	22. Runaways

Weeks went by and Link found he had a difficult time telling the difference between the individual days. Training in the morning. Training at night. More of the same. He felt like the hands on a clock going round and round with no particular destination. He didn’t see much of the Princess anymore. Impa had begun seeing her in her chambers as she had developed a penchant for slipping away from her guards and causing the King quite a bit of grief. Link thought everyone would be quite cross with him if he were to try the same thing and he wasn’t eager to upset his own father, who was very much _not_ like the sour King. Link’s father was kind and though he often was unsure of what to do, he tried his best to be there for Link in any way he could. He now found his father standing promptly in the training grounds every morning when Impa returned him from his Skeikah training, sometimes even jerking awake from where he had fallen asleep standing. Lennon hadn’t missed a morning reunion and didn’t plan on doing so ever again. Link found his constant presence a comfort.

One morning, Link woke with the sun from a slumber that was delightfully devoid of any dreams for the first time in months. No lights. No Goddesses. No Castle. Just the pleasant nothing of a deep sleep. His father dozed beside him, a light snore rumbling from the back of his throat. It was an off day where Impa had had to attend to castle business, leaving Link blissfully free from his nightly duties. Those days were his favorite. He could never quite tell if Impa cared for him or thought him tiresome. The back and forth confused him and he relished any moment he could focus on something else instead. 

He slunk from the bed and walked into their living area. Bags of his and his mother’s things were still packed from the Hateno trip, bundles of cloth and worn clothes thrown haphazardly into a dark corner to be forgotten. Empty tankards from his father’s nights of solitary drinking littered the table, along with dishes and crumpled parchment with his father’s handwriting skewed across them. Link decided to be useful as the morning sun kissed his skin through the balcony window, filling him with a sense of tranquility and purpose he hadn’t felt for a long time. 

He spent the morning cleaning and thinking of his mother. Though it cut him deeply that he could no longer hear her voice with his ears, he heard her in his own head as if she were there cleaning with him. 

_ What a helper you are,  _ he imagined her saying, a gentle smile pricking at the corner of his lips as a pang of longing brushed across his heart. How long would he remember her voice when she wasn’t there to remind him? 

He pushed the thought away, filing it into that part of his mind where he kept those thoughts that he wasn’t sure how to deal with. He quietly hummed that old lullaby he remembered from being a baby as he stacked the empty dishes and cleared the table, eyeing his handiwork before turning to the sound of a light knock on the door. 

“Perhaps you would like some breakfast today, Captain?” came a timid voice from behind the door. 

Link opened it just enough to see a maid that let out a small startled noise at the sight of him. In her hands was a covered plate of food that Link could almost taste as the smell wafted up and filled his nostrils. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. 

“Good morning, little captain!” the maid said amiably, “May I interest you in some breakfast?”

“Yes, please,” Link replied, to which the maid took as an invitation to swiftly enter the room. She raised an eyebrow at the current state it was in. Lennon had refused service for weeks and she had wondered how many of the castle’s dishes he had been hoarding inside his chambers. She gathered up the pile Link had made before nodding and ducking back out the door. 

“Thank you,” Link called down the hallway as she swiftly retreated to the kitchen with her collected hoard of dishware and a healthy dose of new gossip on the edge of her lips. People in the castle were no doubt intrigued by the Captain’s son. The one who caught the eye of the King and the Sheikah alike. His sullen silence had given them little to feed upon. His brief exchange would no doubt fill their hushed conversations for weeks. Link watched her turn the corner before closing the door behind him and walking towards the bedroom door, creaking it open slowly to peak at where his father still slept. 

“Dad,” he said as he gently shook his shoulder. 

Lennon sputtered to life before him, gasping as he threw the thick blanket that had been covering him onto the floor before staring at Link, who held a carefully neutral expression as he watched the startled way in which he had sprung to life with quiet amusement.

“What’s going on? What’s happened?” Lennon asked as he ran his hands through his sleep matted hair. 

“Breakfast is here,” Link said with a small smile. The normalcy of it soothed over the ache in Lennon’s heart like a gentle heat on a sore muscle. 

_ Oh Gods,  _ Lennon thought,  _ he’s smiling again.  _

“Oh, I see,” he breathed as Link turned to climb into his own chair to eat. 

Lennon wasn’t sure what exactly he had done to lift the boy’s spirits, but he sent a quiet prayer of thanks to the Goddesses as well as his wife, who he imagined was among them, smiling down at him as he careened blindly through parenthood without her wisdom. He smiled himself at the sight of Link, a healthy dusting of pink across his cheeks as he tucked into his plate of eggs. He could almost convince himself it was an ordinary day, where the bruises creeping up the side of his son’s collarbones were honestly earned in play and not combat. Perhaps another tumble off the roof or a kick from a horse he had sneaked up upon. But the illusion was cast aside as he remembered his plans for the day. Another summons from the King. He briefly wondered what new miseries the man had conjured before sitting across from Link at the table. 

“Looks nice in here, did you let the maids in? I’ve been shooing them away…” he mused as he took in his surroundings. 

“I did it,” Link replied, sneaking a piece of bacon off his father’s plate. 

“You cleaned up?” 

Link nodded as he continued eating. The boy’s appetite had only grown since beginning his new regime. He never seemed satisfied. Lennon pushed his own plate to the boy and sat back to watch him. He was a pretty child, no doubt. Lennon had seen many scraggly boys running about the castle in his time, all bone and dirt and roughness. But Link had a softness about him. If one didn’t know him, it would almost be inconceivable to imagine his lithe form near any type of weapon. He could nearly imagine him in the royal blues and golds, perfectly pressed like the Princess, though he was sure Link would have no trouble ruining the fine fabrics the moment he got a chance. He knew he had Ellia to thank for that. The boy had spent six years raised only by his mother, who in her own right was a beacon of gentleness and empathy. She had raised him on affection and adventure, never forgetting to remind him of how loved he was, always willing to live through the worry of letting him explore the world and find a place for himself in it. He questioned his own wisdom to do the same. Had he not stripped him of his freedom already? Their time spent together had been filled with trauma and an unending grief that simultaneously brought them together while also tearing them apart. They had only just begun to find home in one another. He prayed he could continue down that path and that Link would follow him there. 

“Dad?” Link’s voice broke him from his thoughts. His plate was clean and his eyes were fixed on his father’s face, lost in thought. 

“I’ve been summoned by the King again,” he explained, “Sir Otto is in charge for the morning. Do you think you could walk on your own to training this morning? I must be prompt” 

“Oh...okay,” Link replied. 

“I won’t be long, I promise,” Lennon continued as he rose from the table to put on his more pressed guard’s uniform. 

“Okay”

Lennon sighed, buttoning the decorative front to his uniform as he walked to the door. Link watched him curiously from the table, still holding his empty fork. 

“Don’t forget to wear your bracers. Today will be archery,” he continued as he raked his hands through his hair. 

“Okay”

“And don’t let them give you a hard time just because I’m not there,” Lennon said, stopping to pace before the door.

“Okay” 

“And make sure to fill your water jug, the temperature is rising. I don’t want you overheating,” he kept going, before coming to a stop back in front of the table where Link was watching him intently. 

“Okay,” Link replied again. 

Lennon took a deep breath and held it a moment before putting a hand on Link’s back. It never felt right leaving him. 

“Okay,” Lennon said resolutely with a small smile as he ruffled his son's hair and finally walked out the door. 

* * *

Link dressed himself, making sure to grab his bracers and his water before closing the door behind him. Spring was coming and the castle was filled with a pleasant warmth, the occasional breeze carrying the smells of someone’s lunch or freshly bloomed flowers down the long hallways. He stopped a moment trying to decipher which he was currently smelling before a sound stopped him. He cautiously turned the corner before he fell in a heap on his backside, his equipment loudly skittering across the stone floor as whatever he collided with pushed against him to right itself. 

He gasped as he opened his eyes and saw the Princess standing above him, her hair splayed across her sweaty forehead, heavy skirts gathered in one hand as her eyes darted back down the hallway she had appeared from. 

“Move!” she hissed as she pushed past him, tripping over their legs that had tangled together on the ground. 

“I didn’t see you!” he said apologetically as he tried to help her up. She swatted his hands away as she shuffled back to her feet. 

“Move, they are coming!” she shot back at him as she took him in for the first time. Recognition briefly flashed across her face as she watched him pick himself off the ground. 

“Who is coming?” he asked, clearly, confused as he rubbed at his backside. He was sure to find a bruise there later. 

“The guards! We have to go!” she shouted before grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallway. 

Link’s bewilderment at his sudden involvement into her mad dash transformed into pure excitement as they rounded the corners together, their pursuers quick at their heels. Zelda kept a tight grip on his hand as she dragged him through the library, sliding under tables and dodging the books they dislodged in their hurry. They burst through the library door and Zelda made to turn right before Link stopped her, pulling back on her arm. She turned to question him before she heard the footsteps of guards coming from both directions. Her face fell as she realized they were about to be caught and she let go of Link’s hand with a dejected sigh. He could feel her disappointment as if it were his own, threatening to strip him of the joy he had found on their wild chase. He was determined not to lose it. He grabbed her hand again before pushing her into the small alcove before them, squishing their small bodies behind the ornamental suit of armor that served as decoration in the hallway. 

“What are you-” she tried to ask before he shushed her by putting a finger to his lips. She shuffled closer to him and listened as the guards nearly collided just feet from their hiding space. 

“Where did they go?” one of them huffed as he panted, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees. 

Another guard growled with a much deeper voice as he pushed the younger man forward with a hard slap on the back. 

“This is the 5th time this week, you imbecile!” he shouted as he shoved the other man forward. 

"It's like she's there one moment and gone the next!" the younger man shouted right back. 

“I think _you_ get to report it this time,” the deeper voice said, a hint of a smile behind the words. 

“Don’t make me go in there alone, Alfred, he’ll eat me alive!”

The deeper voice merely grunted in reply as they  heard the other man groan before sulking down the hallway.

“Maybe they went to the tavern,” the last guard left laughed at himself as he took his own leave, “Yeah, that’s where I’ll look next. Blimey Princess…”

Then all the two runaways could hear was the sound of their own breathing as they waited for the footsteps to recede a safe distance. Suddenly, their closeness was very apparent to Link who felt a warmth spread across his face and all the way up to his ears.

“That was very sneaky,” Zelda laughed as she tried to whisper, still cautious they would be caught. 

“Oh...yeah...what?” Link stammered as he lifted his arm in the tight space to rub the back of his neck. 

Zelda smiled at him and it was a small and private thing that Link felt all the way into his core, like the excitement that builds right before opening a present. He wondered if his whole body was red or just his face. He briefly thought to cover his face with his hands before Zelda giggled. He wondered if he might float away with the sound of it. 

“Thanks,” she said and she squeezed her way out of the small space, checking down both hallways before facing him again with another smile. Link didn’t understand how he felt so heavy and so light at the same time or why he was suddenly having a hard time remembering what language he spoke as she looked at him expectantly. 

“So...where are we going now?” she asked him playfully, primly folding her hands before her as she rocked on her heels. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t know?” he managed to reply. 

“I’ve always wanted to go see the flower stalls in Castletown, but Papa says it's too dangerous. You could keep me safe though, right?” her long blonde lashes fluttered as she looked up at him, her face sporting its own healthy blush from the exertion of their chase.

Link felt like he was sitting at the bottom of Lake Hylia as her words finally broke through his fog. 

“Yes, of course,” he nodded very cordially as she took his hand again and lead him out of the castle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the time to sit and reread this entire work and it struck me so hard how much I was projecting my own depression into it. I just wanted to remind everyone reading this to take a minute today to take care of yourself and your mental health. If its reading, writing, cooking, whatever makes you happy. You are worth it. 
> 
> I'm in a much better place now and I really want to finish this story. I literally dreamed about little Link and Zelda running off in the castle and had to add it to this story. I hope this brightens your day!


	23. To the Gardens

They bounced together through the castle grounds, somehow managing to keep a hold of the other’s hand. Zelda tore off the more ornamental layer of the gown she had been wearing, leaving her in a more playful slip that better suited their activities and as well as concealed her identity. Link had been quite embarrassed when she stopped and started tugging at the heavy fabric, dutifully turning and covering his face with his hands until Zelda giggled and pushed him to keep moving, shoving the heavily embroidered fabric into a dusty corner with no regard for the hours that went into making it. 

They worked their way past the gates of the castle and into the bustling town that it grew from. Zelda gasped as she finally saw the streets of Castletown for the first time without a consort of guards to make a path for her. Where before all she saw was the reverence of the Hylians bowing at her carriage, now she saw the truth of it. Cart vendors shooing off nosey children, a husband and wife bickering over rupees, blacksmiths hammering their molten goods, cuckoos and children and so many people. She loved it. Link watched as her eyes widened at every passing cart, those viridian irises soaking in anything and everything as if it were the very first time she’d ever left the castle. Link joined in her observations as he scanned the area for anyone that may recognize him. A pang of guilt flipped in his stomach as he realized that his father may have returned to the barracks by now. He wondered if anyone may be out looking for him. Especially because of who he was with. He imagined Impa wielding her long training stick, ready to beat him senseless with it. 

“Can we go there?!” Zelda squeaked as she laid her eyes upon a small cart peddling flowers and honey, “Oh they look beautiful!” 

Link glanced in the direction she was pointing and his whole face lifted into a smile when he saw whose cart Zelda had found. Sir Thomas, dressed in his casual attire, leaned against the familiar cart, a twinkle in his eye as he talked with Eleanor, who was seeming to soak up every word. 

“That’s my friend,” Link said, turning to face her, “Let’s go see them,” he held out his hand and she took it without question, following him as he puzzled a less noticeable route through the throng of people before slipping behind the cart. 

“Oh my!” Eleanor exclaimed as she felt something brush against her skirts, “What do we have here. Come look, Thomas!” 

Thomas quirked an eyebrow before leaning over the cart and letting out a laugh. 

“Oh Goddess, it’s Link! What the devil are you doing out here and who-” the words died in his throat as his jaw fell slack at the sight of the crown Princess, half dressed and covered in soot and dust. 

“Link!” he sputtered before tilting forward, lowering his voice so as to not arouse suspicion, “_ have you stolen the Princess _?”

  
Zelda blushed a deep crimson as she covered her face in her delicate hands, a smile in her eyes and a laugh on her lips as she turned to Link. 

“No! No, I uh, we just…” he stumbled through his words again, waving his hands around in the air as if to make any sense of them as Thomas burst into laughter. 

“Oh you sweet thing, don’t mind him,” Eleanor said as she leaned down to brush his bangs from his forehead, “Are you feeling better, darling?” 

Link could see in her eyes that Sir Thomas had told her everything. Sympathy flooded her auburn irises as she regarded him with empathy. He cast his eyes to the ground, not wanting to see the sadness he would find on her face. 

Zelda watched curiously as he toed the dirt at his feet before replying. 

“Yes, ma’am” 

Eleanor smiled at him before turning to the Princess, “I’ve never had a Princess at my shop before, Your Highness, you do me a great honor!” 

“Oh, I’m just Zelda,” she said, clasping her hands together as she tried to peak over the stall to see the violets that had caught her eye before turning to whisper into Link’s ear. 

“_ I very much like your friends” _

Sir Thomas watched with great delight as Link slightly jumped at their proximity and then shrugged sheepishly, his mouth set in an almost comically crooked grin. The sight of the boy so flushed and alive and seemingly happy brought a goofy grin to his own face. 

Eleanor coughed into her elbow to get his attention before nodding in the direction of several guards huffing their way through the crowd. The King had given explicit instruction that the Princess would be searched for in a delicate manner in an attempt to not raise interest in her frequent bouts of absence from supervision. If one didn’t know the Princess was missing, they might mistake the increase of guards for better security. But Thomas knew better. 

“You cannot stay here long. You’ve certainly gotten the guard a bit ruffled and I’m not keen on being the focus of that ire,” Sir Thomas said as he watched a patrol circle around the perimeter of the marketplace. 

“Well it just so happens that I know of a wonderful little secluded place where a mischievous Princess may find time to play,” Eleanor mused as she watched the two of them huddled together behind her stall, “and I also know of a rather gallant knight who might be convinced to protect you so the King doesn’t throw us out for endangering his only daughter,” she winked at the two of them, causing Zelda to giggle into her hands again. 

“Oh, my love, but you forget. I am begrudgingly off duty today,” Sir Thomas said with a sigh as he relaxed his posture again against the front of the flower cart as he tipped his cap to a fellow soldier that ambled by. 

“You must be mistaken. I clearly meant valiant Sir Link here,” Eleanor teased, “without his courageous acts you would be a pile of lynel excrement on the top of Polymus mountain!”

Zelda drew in a sharp breath of surprise as she jumped to read Link’s face, which had turned quite the complementary shade of pink to the lilies he was standing under. 

“You fought a lynel?! You must be the bravest boy I’ve ever met!” she nearly sang in that sweet voice that lifted Link into another plane of existence. 

“Eleanor don’t torture the boy, he looks like he’s about to implode!” Sir Thomas couldn’t help but laugh as Link stared with eyes the size of the moon at Zelda’s excited movements. 

“Come on, you little rascals. They will have my hide for this if we aren’t discrete. Just walk close to me and look like you’re going somewhere with purpose. No one questions you when you’re confident,” Thomas explained and the two runaways nodded eagerly as they followed him away from the marketplace. 

Sir Thomas led the pair back to the house he now shared with Eleanor, tucked into the old quarter of Castletown, nestled gently into a corner which Eleanor had explained saw the perfect amount of sunshine for her very own flower garden. Zelda nearly let all the air escape from her lungs as she stepped into the backyard, which was ripe with blossoms of every shade and scent, crawling in troves over handmade trestles and trellises. She turned and clasped her hands over her heart as she smiled at Link.

“Oh, it’s perfect!” she beamed at him. 

“I’ll just be over here, if you need me,” Sir Thomas winked at Link before moving to stand at the entrance, keeping an eye out for nosey neighbors. 

Link and Zelda spent the next few hours examining every flower and insect they came across in their exploration of the small space. Zelda was quite impressed by his skills at insect capture and he was amazed at her knowledge of plant life. While he referred to the flowers as “that pink one” or “the silly blue one”, she knew them by their actual names, occasionally tripping over their correct pronunciation, though Link never noticed. He remained steadfastly fascinated to learn how violets differed from amaranth and lilies, if only to hear it in her voice. 

“How do you know all their names?” Link asked her as he let a ladybug crawl from his palm into hers. She smiled briefly before it faded into an expression he couldn’t read. The ladybug gently opened its wings and took flight from Zelda’s hand. They watched as it lazily floated through the air until it landed nearby on a flower. 

“My mother taught me. But...she’s gone now,” Zelda’s voice was soft and laced in a melancholy that could have come from Link’s own soul; he knew it so well. 

“Oh,” he replied quietly as he let his gaze wander back to the ground. 

A shy moment passed between them as Link wondered if he’d hurt her feelings. He felt his own hurt bubbling up within him as he tried to soothe himself by rubbing the back of his hands with his thumbs. A nervous habit. 

“My mama is gone too,” he nearly whispered, but she seemed to hear him as she turned to face him. She didn’t like the way she couldn’t see the blue of his eyes when they were weighed down with sorrow. But she had yet to find a remedy for her own sadness, much less a way to soothe her friend. 

“Oh,” she said instead, turning away from him to bury her interest in another flower to mask her own hurt. 

“Can you...can you teach me their names?” Link asked, pulling her attention back to his face, which had softened with his question. 

“This one is a white lily. Some say these lilies stand for purity and virtue. Mother told me she had them in her hair for her wedding,” Zelda began with a cautious smile before becoming lost in her own knowledge. 

Link wasn’t sure he understood most of what Zelda was telling him. She had no doubt spent a better portion of her life studying and learning where he had been swinging a sword or climbing a tree. But what he did know was that the sound of her voice felt right in his ears no matter what she was saying, so he listened intently as she explained all she knew about the flora around them. What he didn’t know was that Zelda had also spent most of her life being talked at or talked over. As he thoughtfully soaked in the information that flew from her mouth as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever heard, she discovered a warmth in her heart in a place that previously had been quite cold. 

As the children continued their educational tour of the garden, a shadow paced along the upper ramparts, looking down at them with a mix of irritation laced with curiosity. A shadow which had followed the Princess from her prayer chamber and out the back entrance, unbeknownst to her guards. A shadow that almost reached into the light to grab her before she barreled into the stubborn boy they had been trying to coax into conversation for months now. The boy that seemed to finally find his voice in the presence of the runaway Princess. She had to let herself smirk at the thought of a boy trained in stealth having gone missing along with the Princess. So he wasn’t so obedient after all. 

Impa stepped from the shadow to watch the way the children seemed to orbit around one another, finding a peace in each other that they had both lost long before they were old enough to realize what it meant. She thought of the tempest the children were brewing in the throne room as Rhoam took the report of her absence one time too many for his patience level to maintain. But the honest smile across the Princess’ face made her think of the late Monarch. The Queen who had described to her a golden haired boy with eyes the color of the sky in Tabantha in summer who would soon wield the Sword the Sealed the Darkness. She spoke of his strength, but also of his heart. _ It is his heart that will set him apart, Impa. I know it. _ Impa had been quick to dismiss her description. _ That sounds like half the boys down in Castletown, my Queen. _But there was only one boy before her now. She thought herself a devoted Sheikah, but as she stood watching them weave jewelry from weeds, she finally found herself questioning what the Goddesses planned to do with two heartbroken children and how they would manage to carry the weight of their destiny in their small hands. 


	24. Caught

Lennon sat rigid before the King once more as his overbearing form seemed to shadow him from across the dark oak desk. He kept his hands beneath the ridge of the surface, a vice grip whitening his knuckles, a matching force grinding his jaw. 

“You see why this is a good move,” Rhoam continued, either ignorant or uncaring of the emotion emanating from the man before him, “The newly constructed Fort Hateno needs a competent leader. It’s location serves as a gateway into those settled portions of Hyrule. My people need protection from the evil that is spreading its roots in our land. I expect this Fort to provide that for them.”

Lennon stayed silent, fearing the poison that would spew from his mouth if he dared to un-clench his jaw.

“And the boy will learn his independence from you. He will continue to train under my supervision and that of the Sheikah. We will make a warrior of him yet.”

Lennon ran the scene over in his mind. Leaving Link in the shadow of the castle while he rode off towards Hateno. It posed as an awfully familiar memory. One he was loath to duplicate.

“Is this a punishment, your Highness?” he ground out, cursing himself for how much he feared the intimidating man before him. No wonder the Princess shrunk at his side when they walked together through the long corridors. Even his breath seemed to come out aggressively. 

“It is what is best for the kingdom of Hyrule,” the King boomed, shutting the open journal before him with more force than necessary, “How you perceive it is your business and hardly relevant” 

Before Lennon’s composition could completely rupture, a very paled and nervous looking guard entered the chambers. 

“My deepest apologies for this intrusion, Your Majesty, but she has done it again,” the man nearly whimpered, his head bowed so far he could smell the perspiration dripping down his own chest. 

The King made a frightening sound at the back of his throat as he crumpled the paper he’d been holding in his hand with one mighty squeeze.

“We’ve been looking a few hours now, Your Majesty. She is also not alone. She is with a small boy. A few of the guard members mentioned it may be the Captain’s son,” the man continued as he briefly raised his head to lock eyes with Lennon, whose mouth fell open before snapping immediately shut at the King’s audible anger beside him. 

“You allow her to be unguarded for  _ hours _ without supervision?” he accused as he stood from the desk, the sound of it shrieking across the stone floor filling the small space, “Alone, in the company of that boy?”

The guard shook in his boots as he wrung his hands before him. 

“Yes, Your Majesty. We are still searching-”

“Out!” the King boomed, slamming his fists on the table, causing the man to jump, “I never want to see your face in this castle again” 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the man squeaked as he nearly sprinted through the doors. 

Lennon sat tense as he could feel Rhoam’s eyes burn over him. 

“If he has done  _ anything  _ to her...If even a single strand of hair on her head is displaced, I will see to it that he is punished,” he warned, his voice a thick venom that burned into Lennon’s ears.

“He will not harm her,” Lennon finally found his voice, “he may be a warrior, but his heart is gentle. I imagine they are just...playing. They are still children, after all, Your Majesty” 

“Playing _ ”  _ the King scoffed as he roughly pulled his long cloak from the coat rack nearby, “I now see this move with more clarity than before. It will do that coddled boy some good to spend time away you who would chose to feed into that nonsense than help bolster his skills. He no longer has the privilege of  _ playing.  _ Our Kingdom is at stake. Our very  _ lives.  _ And you think  _ playing  _ is an appropriate use of their time. Get out of my office, I will find them myself” 

The King disappeared from the doorway, leaving Lennon reeling. He expected the world of his son but couldn’t even be bothered to remember his name. Anger ripped through him like a volt of electricity as he launched to his feet and ran after him. 

* * *

Impa leapt from the ramparts, causing Sir Thomas to stumble out of shock at her sudden appearance. 

“Go now,” she commanded, “You will not want to be seen here” 

Thomas looked back at the children in the garden who were smiling at one another as they placed bracelets of weeds on each other’s wrists. Link’s cheeks were flushed as the Princes reached up to put one in his hair. 

“Is it going to be bad?” he asked, turning back to face her, reeling a little at the intensity in her eyes. 

“I am doing you a kindness, soldier. Now go,” she replied.

He hesitated a moment before nodding and backing off into the shadows; not too far that he couldn’t see what was happening, but not so close to be seen. He had promised to watch over them and he refused to leave them with the cloud of uncertainty that hung in the air. 

“Zelda!” the resonant power of Rhoam’s voice barreled through lower Castletown; people scurried out of its path as one might from a tsunami. 

Zelda froze in front of Link at the sound of it, her eyes wide as if they were a portal into another world the pair wished they could escape into. The fear that now held her face prisoner crept its way into Link and he shrunk at the feeling of it. When Rhoam entered the gardens, Zelda ducked behind Link, clutching his hand before whispering.

“ _ Please keep me safe”  _

Those words stilled the rapid beating of Link’s heart and he wore them like a shield as  he squeezed her hand in reassurance, bracing himself as he turned to face the mountain of a man barreling towards them.  _ I am brave,  _ he told himself. Today he believed it. He felt his fear harden into determination as the King neared. 

“Your Majesty,” Impa’s cool voice came from the shadow she had walked out of, “I assure the Princess has been under careful supervision. The two of them have only been here in the gardens and I kept watch while I sent for you.”

“Enough!” he commanded as Lennon skid to a stop behind him, unable to catch Link’s eye as it was fiercely trained on the King. He had his knees bent and his vision sharp as if he were a predator about to pounce. Behind him, the Princess pressed her face into his back, a strong grip on one of his hands. 

“Move, boy!” the King bellowed as he marched forward. 

But Link did not move. As small as he was with the King towering above him, he held his ground. 

Rhoam rolled his eyes in anger as he picked the small boy up by his forearm, causing Zelda to let go of him as he lifted into the air. He then tossed him aside so he could reach his daughter. The landing wasn’t rough enough to injure anything but Link’s pride as he landed on the ground with a huff and a plume of dust. Lennon took a sharp breath as red flashed across his eyes. He took a threatening step forward before something caught him by the arm. He spun with a hiss to see Thomas gently shaking his head. 

“Enough of these games, Zelda! You were to be  _ praying.  _ Not gallivanting across Castletown with that boy! Tell me, whose idea was this little  _ outing?”  _ The look the King gave Zelda was enough to make her never want to speak again, but she found her voice as she looked over to see her new friend nursing his sore backside on the ground with wide eyes. 

“Papa, please. I made him play with me. Don’t hurt him,” she pleaded quietly.

The King looked briefly between the pair before zeroing in on his daughter again. 

“Gone are the days where you continually disobey me without consequence. I hope this was enough to satisfy you for a long time for it will be your last,” his voice was sharp before he turned to Lennon, “And don’t you think your son will be without consequence either. Any other man would face the noose for abduction of the crown Princess. I think a night or two in the dungeons will remind him of his place”

Lennon’s mouth fell open for a second time that day as he found himself blinded by shock and outrage at the King’s words. The dungeons of the Castle were used for traitors and threats to the crown. It was currently occupied by a number of Yiga spies they were attempting to pull information from. It was not a place he ever wanted his son to see. He went to walk towards Link who had yet to rise from the ground before the King held up a halting hand. 

“No. Master Impa, you will escort the boy there. Follow standard procedure. He is not to be released until I give word myself”

Master Impa nodded gravely as the King and the Princess left the gardens. Zelda looked despondently over her shoulder with tears in her eyes as Link slowly rose from the ground. He watched her until he could no longer see her shape in the distance. 

Anger flooded Link's body like a fever, burning from his toes to the tips of his ears. He began to breathe rapidly as his father approached him.

“Are you okay?” Lennon asked cautiously as Link began to pace in the small space of the garden, his hands squeezing into tight fists before making their way to his temples where he pressed hard into the soft flesh he found there. 

“ _ No!”  _ he snapped as he moved away from his father’s touch. 

Lennon tried to reach for him again but Link pulled away harsher, nearly yanking his arm as the fabric of his shirt ripped from his fingers where he had been trying to bring him near. 

“Leave me alone!”

Lennon sat back on his heels and watched Link as his hands made their way into his hair. He remembered this old habit from his younger days when he couldn’t quite communicate; the frustration it would cause him. He would cry and pull at his hair until his mother soothed him and gently unfolded his hands from their blonde cage. He wondered what honeyed words Ellia would sing to him now. The absence of her felt like a boulder upon his chest. 

“Link, please come here,” he tried again. 

“No!” Link yelled. For all of his questions and ramblings, Link had never been a loud child and wasn’t one to raise his voice. The sound of it now made Lennon feel powerless. 

“I don’t want to be here! I want to go home!” 

Lennon sighed as he let his hands drop at his sides, “Link...where do you want to go?”

“It’s not fair!” Link shouted as he dropped to the ground and shoved his face between his knees. The tears on his face were hot and unwanted. He never wanted to cry again, but he couldn’t stop their sudden assault upon his cheeks. 

Lennon stood and took a tentative step towards him. He knelt before his son as he put a hand on his knee. Link quickly brought his head back up to look at his father before pushing him away. 

“Stop it!” he choked on his cries as he buried his face back in his knees. 

“Link!” Lennon finally shouted, raising his own voice, “that is enough of this!” 

Link looked up briefly from his place on the ground. His face was red and his eyes were puffy, but the flash of fear that danced across his features was enough to bring Lennon back to his knees. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled, just please get up,” Lennon said quietly.

“Captain,” Impa said from behind him, interrupting the tenseness that had fallen between them, “I have my orders. He must come with me” 

In a moment of weakness, he turned his face to let the Skeikah woman see the tears that had begun to roll down his own cheeks. 

“He is a child, Impa. Children are not allowed in the dungeons” he voice came meek; a stark contrast to the man he usually presented to others. 

“Captain,” she said again, kneeling to meet his eye level, a touch of sympathy in her voice, “You know we cannot disobey direct orders from the King”

He scoffed as he turned back to Link who sat on the ground now wiping the silent tears from his face with his sleeve. He had schooled his face into a blank look that did nothing to display the turmoil within. 

“Come on boy,” Impa said as she held out her hand for him. 

“Impa,” Lennon said as Link rose to take her hand.

She turned to watch him carefully. His eyes never left his son’s down-turned face as he took a deep breath and continued. 

“Please don’t shackle him” 

Impa merely shook her head as the two of them walked back towards the castle. Lennon watched them go as his own face fell into one of neutrality. Sir Thomas carefully walked up beside him, having stood back for most of the exchange. 

“He’s a strong kid, Captain. He’s been through worse. He will be okay” 

Silence hung between them a moment before Lennon spoke. 

“He doesn’t even know where they are going,” he said quietly as he watched the now empty walkway, “He doesn’t even know what a dungeon is” 

For once, Thomas had nothing to say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All good things must eventually be disrupted by sadness. I apologize that I'm never free of errors. I do proofread, but for some reason I am blind to them until I come back days later and see it. Hopefully you're able to enjoy despite it. 
> 
> Hope you guys are staying safe, have a wonderful week.


	25. Fear and Fatherhood

Link started to quickly realize that what he had thought of as the dungeons was absolutely not where Impa was taking him. In fact, those dungeons were much deeper. They were so deep that he found himself instinctively walking closer to Impa as she led him down so many steps he began to lose count of them. Though he had never had the opportunity to explore one, he imagined this was what a cave might be like. Dark and damp and mysterious in a way that wasn’t inviting but instead spoke of danger. He wondered what beasts lay and wait for him in the shadows. When they came to a door equipped with iron bars, Impa looked down at him. He held his mouth in a thin line, but his eyes betrayed him. There, clear as if it were written across his face in print, she saw it. Fear. It was the first time she had ever seen it on him and it did not suit him well.

The narrow hallway was lined with cells. A sudden rattling of metal caused the boy at Impa’s side to nearly crash into her as he scrambled away from the sound and into the safety of her presence. The rattle of chains echoed in the stone chambers as voices began to add to the cacophony. 

_ “I didn’t kill that man or his family and you know it!” _

_ “I ain’t even heard of the damn Yiga, you white haired demon, let me out!”  _

_ “Sheikah bastard!” _

The imprisoned men threw insults as their chains assaulted the floor; stripped of every weapon but their voice. Every sound made Link flinch as he held himself tighter; cradling himself in his own arms. It was much cooler at this depth than the rest of the castle and the thin tunic Link was wearing did nothing to keep out the chill. When the prisoners noticed the child at Impa’s side, their insults turned to him. 

_ “What’d that little bastard do? Suckle his mama’s teet too hard?” _

_ “Got yourself a little toy, you she-devil?” _

_ “Pretty one there! When do I get one?” _

Impa turned to glare at the men, raising her hand in a quick motion that illuminated the bars of their cages a soft blue before fading again. A holding spell, meant to keep those hiding their Yiga powers from teleporting out of the small space. It was also a show of her strength. They had experienced what other effects she could conjure. After a period of murmuring and coughing, the clamoring calmed down enough for her to finish their walk to their destination. She walked past several empty cells before finding one tucked in a corner where no hands could reach in to grab him. She unlocked it and motioned for Link to enter. He stood shell-shocked before her as he processed her request. It was then he understood his punishment. 

“I didn’t mean to, Master Impa,” he whimpered as his bottom lip began to quiver, “I was going to train, I promise” 

His breathing sped up as his eyes started darting erratically around the space. His cell was very small, equipped with only a heavy set of chains that were bolted to the floor. It smelled of filth and blood and mold and the thought of spending another minute there made his stomach do flips. Impa responded only by gesturing again and tilting her head in the direction of the cell. Her face was empty of any emotion as he stood and stared. When she gestured again, he dutifully entered the cell. She entered behind him and picked up the chains on the floor. 

Link’s throat tightened and tears filled his eyes at the sight of her walking towards him with the chains. The sound they made scraping across the floor crawled across skin. He shuffled backwards as he began to cry, his body shivering from both fear and the cold. He could feel as his nails begin to dig into the skin on his arms from how tight he was holding himself. 

“I didn’t hurt her, I promise! She just wanted to play. We were just playing!” he sputtered through his tears as Impa neared him. 

When his back hit the wall, Impa gestured for him to hold out his arms. He shakily held them out for her, not wanting to disobey further. She tried to adjust the adult sized cuffs to fit him, but found they slid right off. She had him hold his hands together and placed one cuff on both his wrists, which were barely large enough to fill the space. The weight of the chain was so much that he had to sit on the floor when she released them. His cries then turned to sobs as he struggled to catch his breath, the full force of his fear finally crashing down on him. 

“I...want...my...Dad,” he choked through his cries, each word punctuated with a sharp intake of air as his body jerked in the effort it took to let the sobs escape his small frame. He tried to lift his hands to wipe his tears but he could not lift the chain from the floor without hurting his wrists. 

Impa knelt before him and watched his lips quiver as his tears rolled down his face with each hard sniffle. He was a mess of tears and mucus, face red and eyes swollen. She took a breath to calm herself as she realized she was truly seeing him for the first time. Gone was the stoic boy playing at being a man who kept his silence like a closely guarded secret and who followed her every command like any practiced soldier would. Here was the true boy beneath that mask. She marveled at the strength he must have held to keep that facade for so long. Underneath he was really just a frightened child that had no understanding of what was happening to him. A frightened child she had just shackled to the floor because her sense of duty had told her to do so. She sighed and ran a hand down her face. 

“That’s the most you’ve ever spoken to me,” she said, watching as he lifted his bloodshot eyes to watch her, “I did warn you about trying to play with her” 

That seemed to renew his sorrow as a fresh bout of cries began to take over his body. 

“I...want to...go home,” he sniffled again, nearly gasping for breath as he sputtered for air. 

“You keep saying that,” she replied calmly as she sat on the floor before him, “where is home for you now?” 

He regarded her a moment before he tucked his knees to his chest and buried his face there without saying another word, his shackled hands resting between his thighs on the floor. 

“You did her a kindness, you know,” Impa said as he tried to muffle his cries into his pants, his small body shivering, “that’s the happiest I’ve seen her since we lost the Queen. For that, I must thank you” 

At that revelation, Link lifted his face. He narrowed his puffy eyes in confusion. Another bout of banging bars and clanging chains caused him to almost violently flinch as he pushed his back harder against the wall. Impa nimbly reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small vial she kept there for her own use. 

“This will be my kindness to you,” she said as she showed him the dark maroon liquid swirling in the glass tube. He narrowed his eyes trying to decipher what it was before he became overcome by deep sniffing again. 

“Drink this”

She put the glass to his lips but he hesitated. She found that she could not blame him for being distrustful of her.

“I keep this with me for nights when I find I need to rest my body, but my mind will not allow it. It will only make you sleep very deeply. When you wake, your father will more than likely be here to collect you. It works very fast. Soon this will all be a distant dream” 

He looked at her before making his decision and opening his mouth. He gagged at the thick liquid that hit his tongue. It tasted like dirt and smelled of lizards. They sat in relative quiet for a moment as the elixir took its effect. Soon, his head began to bob forward and his eyes became so heavy that he could barely keep them open. His long lashes started to slow to a soft flutter as the pull of the potion took him completely. Impa was quick to catch him before he fell to the hard floor. She lay him down and arranged his arms so the chain would not interfere with his circulation. Even in his slumber he periodically took sharp breaths through his nose as his crying took its course through his body. 

She stared at his tiny body as it quivered on the cold floor. Leaving the cell for just a moment, she searched the other cells for a blanket. She draped the old fabric over his shoulders and allowed her mind to wander. She thought that imprisoning a child for playing was much like imprisoning a bird for flight. She knew the King was trying to make a point. She just wasn’t sure it was the right one. Sighing, she locked his cell door, enchanting it with a barrier that no one but her could cross before leaving the dungeons. She left with a quick prayer that he would not wake alone in the cell. Impa had questioned the King before, but as she walked back through the dungeons, she found herself cursing him under her breath. She thought to check on the Princess as well. King Rhoam, in all his harshness, would never subject his daughter to such a physical punishment. But he had his ways of making his displeasure with her behavior known. She wasn’t surprised to see Lennon waiting for her at the entrance when she finally made her way back to the surface.

“Captain, you know you cannot see him”

“You cannot keep me from him,” he stated plainly as he stepped forward to move past her. She placed a hand on his arm before he could continue. 

“There is no need. He is sleeping” 

He stared at her incredulously before she pulled the empty vial from her pockets to show him. 

“You drugged him?!” he nearly shouted as he moved towards her in anger. 

“He was frightened”

Her words seemed to stop him mid-step as he deflated and ran a hand through his hair. 

“And he was so angry with me,” he mumbled and he looked downward at his own feet, replaying Link’s shouting at him over and over in his mind. 

“No,” she replied, though she knew the words weren’t meant for her, “By the time he realized what was happening, he most certainly was not angry with you”

She gave him a knowing look as she watched the blood drain from his face.

“It was a better alternative than letting him sit down there all alone and listen to that filth. He should sleep through it. No harm will come to him. You have my word”

He turned his back to her and looked at the dusty ceiling long enough to form a soreness in his neck.

“Why is he doing this?” he whispered to the tiles on the ceiling, the cobwebs in the corners. 

“Fear clouds the mind like a bad storm. It can make the brightest minds unable to navigate”

Impa made sure the sound of her footfall was audible enough for him to accept her absence. He slowly lowered his head as he stared at the dungeon doors. The tempest that had swirled in his own mind began to clear. Suddenly, he knew what he needed to do.

* * *

High above the dungeons, Zelda sat spiritless as a handmaiden combed through her long, wet hair, having just left a bath. Though the woman worked with all the compassion one in her station may convey, it was not the same as when her mother used to do it. The Queen had insisted on seeing Zelda off to bed herself each night instead of relying on castle staff. They would sit together and read stories while she delicately untangled her long golden strands. But now there were no stories nor gentle touches or goodnight kisses to the forehead. There were only strangers whose faces treated her with a reserved respect that also meant a certain emotional distance and a father whose only interactions of late had been instances where he came to scold her. She felt very alone in the huge palace that should have felt like home. 

She opened her little fist that she had kept tightly closed throughout her nightly routines. In the middle of her palm lay a limp and slightly damp lily blossom that the little boy with the blue eyes had given her earlier. He had been so bashful when he offered her the delicate flower. When she took it from him with a small smile, he had nervously wiggled his mouth around in a way that made her laugh before he smiled back. She didn’t think it was fair that she had only been sent to her chambers when he had to go to a scary place that even she had never been to before. Especially since it wasn’t even his fault in the first place. She hoped he wasn’t too scared down there all alone. 

“Would you like something to drink before bed, Princess?” her maid asked as she tied off her hair into a simple braid. 

Zelda simply shook her head and the maid went to gather her supplies when there came a sturdy knock upon the locked door, per the King’s new requests. 

“May I ask who beckons?” the maid asked.

“I require entrance,” the voice came from beyond the door. It was not a voice that needed introduction in order for the maid to hurry her activities to answer its call.

“Yes, Your Majesty” 

King Rhoam walked with purpose into the Princess’ chambers, dismissing all her maids with the wave of his hand and moving to sit on the bed. Zelda cowered at his presence and shuffled on her hands and knees to the top of her bedding, sliding underneath the silky fabric like some small burrowing animal, hiding her eyes from his view. 

“Zelda…” he breathed, noticing her evasive behavior, “I had only hoped to talk with you”

When no response came from the lump of covers beside him, his focus shifted to the portrait that now adorned her wall. He remembered requesting it be moved into Zelda’s room mere weeks after the Queen had met her early grave. The servants had murmured amongst themselves about his unusual thoughtfulness. How kind of him to allow the Queen to watch over the Princess, even from the grave. But the truth was he could no longer face even the visage of her for fear his heart would finally succumb to the numbness he had cushioned it with after her death and he too would meet his end; what would become of Hyrule then? 

His Queen had been a Goddess whose very presence caused the flowers to bloom, the animals to prosper, and the people to rejoice. Though she was everyone’s Queen, she was  _ his  _ Queen in a way no one else could ever understand. He hadn’t deserved her kindness when he had married her only after being told he must for it was good for political betterment. He hadn’t deserved her patience when he had explained to her that though he found her beautiful and cunning and wickedly intelligent, he needed to give himself time to love her and to show her the affection a husband might show his wife. What he hadn’t deserved most was the love they did eventually find together and the child that had resulted from it. If King Rhoam were to tell the truth, he would say that looking upon the little girl hidden underneath her bed covers reminded him so vividly of his Queen that it made his heart ache. And his heartache was an ugly thing to be seen. He knew he was a poor replacement as sovereign for Hyrule. But he had viciously determined in those bleak weeks after her death that he would not let his Queen’s land nor its people fall, no matter what it took. He only prayed she would forgive him for it. 

“Your mother had told me to wait,” he began softly, “she had wanted a different life for you. But we no longer have the privilege of waiting”

He felt Zelda shift at the mention of her mother. They had been inseparable since her birth. Without her mother, Zelda had been lost in a world she no longer understood and he was no replacement for her warmth. 

“You have to understand why I am so hard on you, Zelda. You have to understand the immense pressures upon us. All signs are pointing to the return of Demise. There are monsters building their numbers on our lands, killing our people and destroying villages. The Sheikah have started to uncover ancient battle machines to aid in the fight that is coming. There is a war on the horizon and  _ you _ are our greatest chance at victory. Without you wielding your blessing, all will be lost. Everything and everyone you know and love will be lost.” 

Underneath the blankets, tucked in her own little cavern, Zelda covered her ears and tried not to imagine the monsters her father described. She tried not to picture herself as the center of some great war. She tried to remember the blue of her friend’s eyes instead. How they had crinkled at the corners when he smiled and how they had lost their shine when her father had found them. 

“You have a great power within you that you continually refuse to work for. I just cannot understand how you fail to see its importance” 

At her continued silence, he took a deep breath and ran a hand down his face before turning and slowly pulling the covers down to see hers. Two emerald eyes shone back at him, topped with a quick knit of her brows that scrunched together in worry and fear. There had been a time when those same eyes had lit up to see him, when she would squeal “papa!” and run into his open arms. But he was a different man then. He was simply an accessory to the throne, free to love his Queen and enjoy the luxury of his freedoms. Now the throne was a thorn in his side that threatened to slowly slice a mortal wound into his body as he attempted to fill it with all she had been and all he was not. 

“Are you even listening to me?”

She nodded a quick affirmation before shrinking back at the bite in his voice and he inwardly groaned. He hadn’t meant to be that harsh with her. Not again. The father within him longed for the days when she would climb into his lap and put toys inside his beard. The King within him knew that time was over and if he ever wanted her to have a chance at her own happy ending, he would have to force her to work for it. 

“You are Zelda Leora Bosphoramus Hyrule, the crown Princess of Hyrule, and I expect you to act in accordance to your title. That means paying attention during your studies, showing upmost piety in your prayers, and not running away with little boys to play in the back gardens of Castletown. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Father,” she said very quietly, her voice muted by the blankets she held in front of her face. 

He sighed deeply as he pushed off her bed. Before he could turn the handle to her door, he stopped at the sound of her voice. 

“Father?” she squeaked as he met her eyes again. 

“Yes?”

She squirmed under his gaze and nervously wrung the blankets in her small hands. 

“Will he have to stay there a long time?” she asked. 

He considered her words a moment before it registered who she spoke of. He thought of the boy not much older than her that he had sent to the dungeons. He trusted that Impa knew better than to endanger his life by mixing him with the criminals and the degenerates they kept there. But that did not stop him from picturing the small boy shackled in the dark corners. For a moment he imagined Zelda there, those chains on her small wrists. He shook the thought away before it lingered too long. 

“No. Now go to sleep. I will see you at your morning prayers”

“But in the mornings I get to-” she slowed her flow of her words at the look of authority on his face. He didn’t have to explain for her to understand. She was a smart girl and he knew it. She dropped her gaze and curled into her blankets again. 

“Yes, Father” she nearly whispered as he nodded and walked out her door. 

* * *

Somewhere between the Princesses’ chambers where the little Princess now lay quietly nursing her injured feelings and the dungeons where he tried not to picture what his son was doing, Lennon found himself intently focused on packing small essentials into the one bag he would be allowed on his reassignment to Hateno the following morning. As he folded his tunics and tucked his socks, he stopped to eye the canvas bags that had been gathering dust in the corners since the day Ellia left the castle and never returned. Gingerly he crawled across the floor and unpacked one of her dresses from her bags. It was a delicate thing; colored blue the same shade as her eyes. He remembered because he had always told her that when she wore it and she had always laughed at him for repeating himself. He held the fabric and savored its softness across his skin, inhaling the scent of her that still clung there. 

“ _ Ellia, _ ” the word came more as a breath than sound as he tried desperately to find the warmth he knew was long lost in its creases. 

“Home is wherever we are together. You told me that once,” he told the air in his empty chambers, “I failed you, Ellia. I failed you for so long. We should have been here together. All of us”

A single tear fell from his eyes and darkened the happy blue into a more muted shade. 

“I refuse to fail you anymore. To fail him anymore” 

He waited a moment, the dress still cradled in his hands as if he expected a reply. But nothing came to his mind but the resolution that he had slowly been forming since leaving Impa at the doors to the dungeons. He put the blue dress into his own pack and hurried out the door. 

He found Thomas some time later packing his own things in the small cottage he shared with Eleanor. Sir Thomas’ name had also graced the list the King had compiled for his new fort and Eleanor had decided to go with him. Thomas had initially looked shocked at Lennon’s commanding presence in his doorway so late at night, but he dared not question his intentions as he hastily let him in his home. 

“How are you taking the reassignment” Lennon asked as he scanned the room, his eyes unable to focus on a single thing. 

“Uh, well enough, I suppose. Eleanor is sad to leave her gardens behind, but I’ve made a big promise to find her better ones in Hateno. There is more land there,” Thomas replied, carefully watching as Lennon seemed to pace the room. 

Lennon nodded and put his hand on his hips as he worked a path back and forth through their living room. 

“Will you be able to see him before you go?” Thomas asked carefully, setting down the bag he had been holding to gauge Lennon’s reaction. It had come as a shock to him that Link would be made to stay behind as his father moved into the garrison. But he had learned to stop trying to make sense of the King’s decisions as of late and he dared not question Lennon’s seeming acceptance of the move. 

Lennon stopped pacing to look at the man, determination replacing the nervous energy that had taken control of his face since he walked in the door. 

“Sir Thomas, we will be leaving the castle. But we will not be joining you at Fort Hateno” 

Thomas exchanged a careful look with Eleanor, who had gone silent at the two men’s conversation. 

“We?” he questioned. 

“Do you honestly think I would leave him here? After  _ that?”  _ Lennon explained as he finally allowed himself to breath freely at the admission. He had thought long and hard about who to trust in his secret plan. None had passed his mental tests but Thomas, the man who had seemed to hold a genuine love for his son. A man even Link himself seemed to trust. 

A small smile spread across Thomas’ face as Eleanor stood and gently took Lennon’s shaking hands in her own. He responded to her kindness with a small squeeze as he looked up at her face. 

“Thomas has done nothing but tell me about your son since the moment he met him. His bravery. His strength. His gentleness. I truly believe your son is a blessing to Hyrule that must be protected and he is not finding that protection here”

Lennon nodded weakly at her words as he tried to hold back the tears that rimmed his vision. It was the first time in a long time someone had spoken of Link with compassion and it did wonders to steel his resolve for what would come next. 

“Captain, please tell us whatever it is you need us to do and it will be done,” she turned to Thomas who extended a hand. The men griped each other tightly near the elbows with firm nods before Lennon composed himself and stepped back. 

“Then allow me to tell you my plan”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, that one was tough to write. If you've ever tried to talk while doing that deep, suffocating kind of cry then you can better visualize poor little Link in his cell. He's been a brave little soldier, but remember he's still only about 8 here. And 8 is still quite little. But don't worry, Papa Lennon has a plan that is taking this story into its next phase. 
> 
> I wanted to convey the dichotomy of the two fathers here so you could get a better feel for their decision making process. Let me know what you think. Comments are my life fuel.


	26. Escape

Impa found the boy the next morning just as she’d left him. His face was no longer swollen from crying, but the residue of the previous night’s sadness still clung to his skin. He shivered lightly on the cold floor, the low lamplight making him almost appear sickly. She had been surprised to receive the order from King Rhoam to retrieve him at such an early hour, but she dared not to question it. Searching her pockets until she found the keys, she gingerly lifted his limp wrists and freed them from their shackles. He whimpered, still lost in the fog of the elixir, as she inspected the deep bruises that had formed where the metal had pushed into his skin. She cursed herself for not wrapping them in a cloth to save him from that reminder. 

It took her a few tries to shake him awake, the elixir doing perhaps too good of a job. She hadn’t anticipated trying to rouse him so early and the amount she had given him had been dosed for an adult. Though he tried, he just couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. Impa stood him on wobbly feet, but he kept falling forward. 

“Link, come on, it’s time to get up,” Impa tried, straightening his form again.

“Mama?” he slurred, confused and drifting off as he slumped onto her chest. 

Impa stilled at his voice and held him there a moment as she felt him murmuring into her coat. At his most vulnerable, his mind had taken him back to the safety of memory. The memory of a mother she knew he’d lost, though she didn’t know when or how. Awkwardly, she felt herself begin to pat the boy on the back with rigid, unpracticed movements, shushing him as he slipped back into unconsciousness. She slowly rose to her feet and carried him through the long corridors. 

She found Lennon pacing at the entrance, his nervous energy seeming to radiate around him in waves. When he saw the two of them emerge, he almost broke out in a run before slowing himself to a brisk walk. 

“That was fast, Captain. I only just received word myself,” she said, watching as he ran his teeth along his bottom lip.

“Is he still drugged?” he asked as he took in the sight of Link’s body hanging limp in the Sheikah’s arms. He walked close enough so that he could see the angry bruises on his wrists as they hung down at Impa’s waist. The sight of it was enough to click something in place in his mind. He took a deep breath and pushed his nervousness to the side, gritting his teeth before fixing his Captain’s mask back on his face. 

“I overestimated how powerful the elixir would be for his small size. He will need the rest of the day to sleep it off,” Impa replied, watching the change come over the man before her with curious eyes. 

“I’ve been instructed that he is to continue with his regular activities,” Lennon replied almost robotically, crossing his arms. 

Impa raised a brow at his odd demeanor but continued on, “Allow him to sleep until his time with me this evening. By that time, he should be alert enough. I will inform the King of this change of plans” 

“Very well,” Lennon agreed a little too quickly as he reached to transfer the sleeping child to his own arms. 

Impa noticed the way that Lennon held the boy was a far cry from the impersonal way she had slung him over her own shoulder. Link seemed to fill in all of Lennon’s empty spaces, the man holding him tightly, almost breathing easier now that they were reunited. She could see when Lennon let his walls slip for the briefest moment as he ran a hand through the boy’s matted hair, leaning his own head against the boy's cheek before snapping back to attention and nodding to Impa. 

“Good day, Master Impa,” he said as he turned away and walked briskly down the corridor. 

For once, the usually perceptive Sheikah Master was left in a state of slight bewilderment. She tried to puzzle out the man’s unusual behavior before clicking her tongue and turning to walk to her study. There were other, more pressing duties for her to attend to that day. 

* * *

In the courtyard there were soldiers loading wagons and checking horses. The small unit of handpicked men were readying the caravan that would take them to Fort Hateno where they were to build a great garrison to protect the east side of their kingdom from the growing number of monster attacks. The King had intended to see them out personally, but a messenger bringing news of an ancient structure being unearthed in Zora’s Domain had stolen his attention. So the crew were left mostly unsupervised. In a dark alley off to the side of the courtyard, two of the chosen soldiers huddled together and talked in hushed tones.

“Is he alright?” Thomas asked nervously, eyeing the form of the sleeping child underneath Lennon’s cloak. 

“He’s still sleeping from that elixir she gave him. It may work in our favor, but if he wakes up before we head out it could spell some trouble for us. I don’t know how he will react”  
  
Thomas leaned back on the cold stone and turned his gaze out to the courtyard when men and their families were packing their belongings away on the backs of horses and under the cover of wagons. 

“I’ve never seen that woman offer anyone a way out of their punishment. She usually savors the opportunity to prove her loyalty to the crown,” Thomas snorted in distaste. 

“I gave up trying to understand other people's intentions long ago. Let us just use this to our advantage. Do you have the chest?” Lennon asked.

Thomas nodded and headed off around the corner before returning with a small wagon that held a large chest in the middle, surrounded by bags of various other supplies. 

“I’ve already complained quite loudly about the amount of garden supplies that Eleanor wants to bring. None should be the wiser,” Thomas winked as he opened the chest, revealing a small space that had been lined with a plush quilt. In the corner was a small satchel containing a water skin, some fresh fruit, and a small lily blossom. 

“Eleanor’s idea,” Thomas shrugged as Lennon inspected the contents. 

Lennon smiled briefly as he placed the bag back in the corner. He shifted Link’s weight in his arms as he leaned over the chest, delicately laying him down in the middle of the soft blanket. Link let out a raspy, dry cough, stirring only enough to curl into himself as he fell back to sleep. Lennon lifted the extra length of the blanket and tucked it around his small form, brushing the hair away from his eyes affectionately before straightening himself and running a hand down his face. 

Both men stood a moment and looked at the small boy curled inside the chest. It didn’t feel right to either of them, but eventually Lennon reached out and slowly closed the lid, making sure the gaps in the wood were large enough to allow him to breath. 

“What did you tell Sir Otto?” Thomas eventually broke the silence. 

“That Impa instructed him to sleep off the elixir in my chambers and that a maid would walk him to the training ground should he awaken. I left a nice pile of rupees on the bed for her trouble and her silence,” Lennon explained, still staring at the worn wood of the chest as if Link would pop out at any moment, illuminating the dark alleyway with his electric grin. 

“Did he believe you?”

“He won’t say anything” 

Thomas hummed in agreement before a sharp whistle turned both the men’s attention back to the gathering in the square. 

“Then let’s get out of here,” Thomas said as he grasped Lennon’s hand in a sharp handshake before turning to pull the wagon to attach it to his horse. 

Lennon held his breath as the unit made their way out of the large castle gates and into the sprawling freedom of Hyrule field. He had half expected the remaining of the guard to charge them. To flip the chest where his sleeping son lay unprotected and drag him back to the castle. But none came. The chest ambled on, rattling and shaking over the uneven terrain as Thomas’ horse continued at a casual speed. No one asked him where his son had gone. In fact, none had spoken with him at all outside of suggestions on which route to take next. They traveled in that fashion until they finally stopped at the banks of the Hylia River late into the evening to make camp. The chest was left off to the edge of camp in a thicket of trees with the rest of the luggage and with great reluctance, Lennon followed the men to a small clearing where they began to pitch their tents. Once all was settled, he excused himself, sharing a knowing glance with Sir Thomas who started a lively conversation to distract the others as he snaked off into the treeline.

Once he was sure he hadn’t been followed, he found himself unable to approach the chest that sat motionless in the moonlight. Part of him had expected Link to have burst out of it while on the road, demanding to know who had shoved him in a box and attached him to a horse. But it hadn’t moved all day nor had he heard a single sound from within. He felt his heart climb up to tickle the back of his throat as he knelt before it and slowly opened the latches. Opening the lid he was met with a pair of very watery and very frightened blue eyes that widened at the sight of him.

“Dad?” a small voice lifted to his ears as he dared to finally let himself feel for the first time that day, Link’s voice shattering the clumsy shield he had placed around himself and letting the relief it brought him come flooding into the deepest chambers of his heart. He was here. He was alive. He was  _ safe _ . And he was away from that castle. 

Link nearly flew out of the chest and into his father’s arms, the two of them colliding with enough force to move Death Mountain. Link cried a different type of cry into his father’s tunic than he had in the dungeons. It was one that came from love instead of fear. Relief rather than torment. He simply couldn't make himself feel close enough to his father, desperate for his warmth and safety. He wrapped his arms so tightly around his father's neck that Lennon had to readjust his grip just to breath.

“I’m so sorry, Link,” Lennon choked out as he held him, “I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Link sniffled as he buried his face in his father’s neck. 

Lennon shushed him and gently pulled him back, sitting him on the ground and quickly checking their surroundings to see if anyone had heard them. When he was confident they were still alone, he pulled out his water jug and a rag and gently began to clean the tears and the mucus and the dirt from his son’s face. Link sat quietly, taking in his surroundings. When Lennon was done, he placed a soft kiss on his forehead and sat back on his heels. 

“Are you okay?” he asked as he looked him over again. His hair was slightly damp and curling at the edges from the dampness of his rag and his eyes were rimmed in red. He seemed pale in the soft light of the stars that twinkled above him, but there were no other wounds that he could see. It would seem Impa really had lived up to her word. 

Link nodded softly, looking around at the copse of trees before turning his eyes back to his father.

“Where are we?” 

“Somewhere between Hyrule Field and Hateno,” Lennon answered, watching as the confusion blossomed across his face. 

“But I have to be the hero and I have to learn and you said I was important and the King said-” he started to ramble as he wrung his hands while a soft panic crept over his body. 

Lennon shushed him again and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. 

“Link,” he said firmly. Link looked up at his father as if nothing else existed. 

“Tell me, who is it that has given you this destiny? Who has chosen you as a hero?”

Link mulled the question over as his eyebrows scrunched together in thought. 

“The Goddess,” he answered quietly, remembering his father’s words and the prophecy he’d been taught by Impa and golden woman made of light that sometimes found him in his dreams. 

“And do you think she lives only at the castle? That she answers to our King?” Lennon asked with a tilt to his head, watching as Link tried to make sense of his words. He was quiet a moment before he shook his head. 

“Then where is she?” 

Link looked up at the sky and closed his eyes. He remembered his mother’s teachings when he was a little boy. That the golden three had blessed their land of Hyrule with life. They were in the trees, the sky, the very air he breathed. A shiver ran down his spine and he let out a deep breath before answering.

“Everywhere," he breathed.  
  
Lennon smiled and took off his coat, wrapping it around Link’s shoulders. 

“Then when they need you. When they  _ truly _ need you, they will find you. Until then, it’s just us. You and me. I’ll continue training you with your sword. You will grow strong and fierce and no one will ever tell you that you aren’t worthy or punish you for being a child. When the time comes that you need to take your place as Hyrule’s Hero...we will go back. But not now. Not yet”

He let his voice trail off as he picked up one of Link’s bruised wrists and gently ran a thumb over the now violet skin. Link winced and looked away.

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

“You’ve done nothing wrong” 

Link nodded before sitting back down on the grass, cocking his head to the side as he noticed the gentle plume of smoke from the distant campfire lazily swirling up to meet the sky. 

“Where are we going?” he asked. 

“Home” 

They searched each other’s faces in the twilight before Lennon stood and picked Link off the ground, gently placing him back in the chest and handing him a small bag of rations he had shoved in his pocket. 

“We’ll have to wait until the rest of the men fall asleep. Then we’ll leave. We’ll have to be sneaky though. No one can know you're here. King Rhoam won’t be happy about your absence and he will likely send men to look for you. Can you wait here just a little while longer while I make sure its safe to leave?” 

Link nodded as he settled back into the box, tearing a piece of bread and putting it in his mouth. 

“That’s a good lad,” Lennon smiled, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise,” he said as he slowly closed the lid. 

Before the chest could completely close, Link shot out his own hand to lift it back up. 

“Hey Dad?” he asked. 

Lennon looked down at him fondly, the starlight seeming to find a home in his irises. 

“I have to pee”  
  
Lennon choked out a quiet laugh and the two of them stole another quiet moment together before Lennon headed back to camp. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Link's small size comes in handy. I told you Papa Lennon was coming to the rescue. Hopefully that healed you a little from the sadness I just seem to relentlessly write. A little R&R is overdue for our boy.


	27. Bridge the Gap

It didn’t take long for the camp to settle. The men were eager to retire to their tents after a long day of traveling and even more eager when Thomas and Lennon had volunteered for guard duty. When it seemed like the last man had finally drifted off into unconsciousness and the only sounds in the camp were that of the smoldering fire and the cadence of crickets, the two men snuck off to free Link from his wooden hiding place. Link squinted his eyes as the moonlight filled his small space with illumination before recognizing the face grinning down at him. 

“Do you like your new home, little man? I built it myself. Nice and cozy, innit?” Thomas said as he patted the side of the chest. 

“Thomas!” Link beamed as he clamored out of the box to clasp the man in a deep hug. 

Thomas smiled into the boy’s hair before holding him out to get a good look at him. He looked pale and tired, with dark circles under his eyes and darker bruises on his wrists. His hair was long and unkempt and his clothes were deeply wrinkled from hours spent cramped in that wooden chest. His face had thinned significantly, giving him a more mature look than the cherub faced five year old he had first met that willingly gave everyone his heart before the world had broken it. But now he saw a blossoming hope in the boy’s eyes. He hoped it found a home there. 

“I’m going to miss you, you know that? You be safe out there and make sure your old man doesn’t fall off a cliff or something, okay?” he said as he ruffled his hair. 

“Okay,” Link smiled before turning his head to wipe his tears on the back of his hand. 

“Oh no, no. There will be none of that. Come here, you rascal”

Thomas pulled the boy in for another embrace and Link clung desperately to his shoulder. Link had come to love Sir Thomas like an older brother. He was someone to train with, to laugh with, to get into trouble with. He had been there in his darkest moments and comforted him when he thought he had been all alone. He had been a friend in a world where it felt like he wasn’t supposed to have any. He did not want to say goodbye. 

“Can you come with us?” Link muffled his words into the man’s sleeve. 

“I have to stay here, buddy. I’m sorry. We can’t take  _ all  _ the King’s best men, can we? That wouldn’t be fair,” he teased as he sat Link down on the ground before him. 

“I know promises are very important to you and I’m loath to think of what you would do to me if I broke this one...but I promise I’ll see you again. Maybe not tomorrow, or the next day. But one day. And you’ll probably be so strong by then that you’ll beat me in a spar with only two hits. What do you say?” 

“Maybe even only one hit,” Link teased back and Thomas laughed, stifling himself so he wouldn’t draw attention from the camp. 

“Are you ready?” Lennon asked.

Link nodded and gave Thomas one last quick hug, whispering a soft “ _ thank you”  _ in his ear before moving to stand at his father’s side. 

Thomas stood from the ground and wiped his own tear that had trailed down his cheek as he shared a look with Lennon.

“Do you have our story straight?” Lennon questioned as he secured the bags on the brown mare that he had led from the camp. 

“You rode ahead to scout for danger after seeing smoke on the horizon. We are to follow behind you and meet at the Fort. Should buy you a few days, at least. I’ll make it convincing,” Thomas explained as Lennon lifted Link up to mount the horse. 

Lennon nodded firmly before grasping the man’s hand and pulling him in for a tight hug. 

“You’re a good man, Thomas. I never really thanked you for what you’ve done for my family. If it wasn’t for you, Hyrule would be without its hero and I would be without a son. I won’t forget that. Take care of Eleanor and stay out of trouble, will you?” Lennon said as they separated, moving to climb on the saddle behind Link. 

“Yes, Captain,” Thomas answered with a grin and short bow for show.

“Oh, and one another thing,” Lennon turned in his saddle as Thomas watched them begin their slow trot from camp.

“Yeah?”  
  
“You’re next in line for the Captain position of Fort Hateno. Gave the recommendation myself. Take care!” Lennon emphasized with a wave, turning with a small laugh at the shocked look on Thomas’ face. 

Thomas stood shocked in place for a moment before returning the small wave of Link as he turned in the saddle to watch Thomas as they rode away. Thomas thought of the little boy who used to leap from his horse to catch fireflies. He thought of the blur of motion he was in action, whether in combat or play. He remembered the fear and the awe the child had instilled in him after taking down the lynel on Polymus Mountain. He had known for a long time that Link was extraordinary in everything he did. To know Link was to feel a raw power still untapped by it's wielder. He didn't know when he would see the boy again, but he knew he would undoubtedly be stronger, faster, harder. He knew the man the boy was destined to be and he shivered at the thought of it and the knowledge that Lennon was now solely responsible for leading him there. But he had faith in his friend and he knew Link would grew more out in the wild than he ever would shut in the cage that was the castle. He sent a quick prayer for their safety to the Goddess and strode back to camp feeling a heavy emptiness on his heart. 

* * *

Link was quiet in the saddle before his father as they rode through the fields with nothing to illuminate them but the shine of the moon. Some small part of Lennon had hoped that Link would be able to shed his heartache and his trauma like an old jacket the moment they left the castle. He prayed his son would spring back to life, that he would spew questions like a fine champagne, run with the wilderness, and smile so broad it bruised his cheeks. But he didn’t. He leaned back against his father’s chest and said nothing, seemingly content to sit and contemplate his surroundings. He tried not to let it trouble him. 

Lennon hadn’t quite planned where the two of them would go after Hateno, but he knew he needed more supplies than the small rucksack he was able to pack at the Castle and he knew he would find more of what they would need at their old home. It would be tricky to keep travelling in the same direction as the soldiers, but with the extra time Thomas bought them, they should be able to make it. He tried not to picture the last time he had seen the little white cottage in Hateno, with Ellia holding a sullen Link who had had a particularly hard time saying goodbye. He remembered the way he lay his head on his mother’s shoulder and sniffled as he packed his horse to return to the castle. He remembered how tightly Link had held onto his neck and his attempts to get him to stay.  _ But I want to see you in the morning,  _ he had quietly cried,  _ Can I come with you?  _ He’d only been four at the time. Ellia had to pry the little boy off his father’s neck and promise him sweets and a game of forbidden hide and seek to get him to calm down enough to be able to wave to his father as he walked his horse across the bridge to town. It never felt right to leave them. He had fantasized about bringing his family back together in the castle for years. How little he had known then. 

Link stirred in the saddle before him, his small frame shaking as a coughing spell ripped through him. He shivered in the aftermath and leaned back heavily on his father without saying a word. 

“You alright?” Lennon asked, leaning around to look at him. His eyes were screwed shut and his features were scrunched together in a slight grimace. Despite this, he nodded slightly. 

Lennon slowed the horse to a trot to get a better look at him. His hair was damp and stuck in ringlets across his forehead and he appeared flushed. Lennon put a hand to his head and discovered he was more than likely running a high fever. He sighed deeply and pulled Link closer, encouraging him to rest his head. 

“I don’t feel good,” Link said quietly, another cough slipped past his lips. 

“You’ve got a fever,” Lennon replied, scanning the horizon. It would be dawn soon and the unit would be waking and moving on. They couldn’t afford to stop where they would be seen. 

“My head hurts,” Link sniffled, pulling his arms close to his body to stave off his shivering. 

“I know, son. I’m sorry. But we can’t stop here. Will you be okay to ride a little further?”

Link nodded into his father’s chest. Lennon wrapped an arm around him and placed a kiss on the top of his head and sighed deeply. While he had been busy packing and planning their departure, Link had been unconscious and chained on the filthy floor of the dungeon that was always much colder than the rest of the castle. It hadn’t helped that he had been perpetually exhausted for weeks beforehand, only stopping his training long enough to eat and get more orders. It was not a surprise that it was all catching up to him. Lennon cursed the poor timing of it. He rode as hard as he could until the first fingers of dawn wrapped around the edges of the horizon. He rode until he found a small copse of trees hiding a stone alcove at the base of a small cliff. It was far enough off the trail that it would be missed by travelers and overlooked by the rest of the unit if they should pass. He led their horse amongst the trees and carefully dismounted, stirring Link from the light sleep he’d fallen into. 

“Where are we?” he said groggily as he looked around. 

“About a day from Hateno, but you need rest,” Lennon said as he pulled a small pack of food and a heavy canvas from their packs. 

“We can keep going,” Link replied, looking up at his father with heavy eyes. 

“No, we can’t. You’re sick and you need to rest,” Lennon asserted. 

Link thought to resist but he was too tired. His head felt foggy and heavy as if it were packed with river stones. He walked into the sheltered space the dip in the rock face made and sat, resting his head on his knees and watching his father as he laid out two sleeping mats and rummaged through their packs for something to eat. 

“Do you need help?” Link rasped through his sore throat. 

“No, but thank you,” Lennon smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. 

Link coughed into his knees and buried his face in his pants, shivering slightly as his father pulled out some small wrapped packages. He felt a weight on his back and looked up to find he had been draped with a blanket. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly as he took the package and opened it, revealing a small meal of rice and meat wrapped in bamboo leaves. 

“You’re welcome,” Lennon said as he sat beside him, making quick work of his own meal. 

They sat in silence as dawn slowly bathed the land before them in a gentle light. Lennon watched Link as he gazed out into the distance and it occurred to him just how much of his life he had missed. Ellia had moved Link to Hateno at an age where he was truly blossoming into his own person. Even though she talked about his father constantly and Link recognized him at each visit, they didn’t really know one another as well as they should. He didn’t know the intricacies of him as Ellia did. His favorite foods. The things that frightened him. The tells on his face when he was about to cry or laugh. How to tell when he was needing a true rest or just quiet time. How he handled illness. Was he feeling more unwell now than he was letting on? Was he putting on a brave face for his father? Lennon knew that Link tended to romanticize him and always saw him as something bigger than he truly was. He remembered doing the same with his own father at that age. He assumed that was a normal tendency for little boys with their fathers, but Link was no normal little boy. He wondered if he would be disappointed to find his father wasn’t some infallible warrior but was in fact just as lost and frightened as he was. He watched Link as he seemed to lose himself in thought, a pensive thought across his face. 

“What’s on your mind?” Lennon asked, hoping he wouldn’t shut down again. He had barely strung a sentence together since his farewell with Thomas. 

“I didn’t get to tell her goodbye,” he mumbled. 

“Who?”

“The Princess,” Link breathed, turning his face away from the fire, “will she be sad?” 

Lennon’s face softened at the kindness of Link’s heart. He had always been a sentimental child and despite his roughness, he wore his heart on his sleeve where it was easily broken, whether for himself or others. 

“Impa will take care of her, I promise. She may be a little sad, but she will be okay”

Link didn’t seem to quite believe him but he didn’t push it. Another quiet moment passed before Link took a sharp breath through his nose and held back the tears on the edge of his eyes. 

“You alright?” Lennon questioned, putting a hand on his back, feeling his upset building there. 

“You’re going to get in trouble,” Link cried, “you’re going to go down there where I was. The King will be so mad. We can go back and say it was my fault” 

Lennon shushed him and pulled him into his lap and held him firmly. He was amazed at how little he had stayed. He was a good head shorter than other boys his age and when he curled into himself, Lennon could almost still feel the baby he’d held so long ago. He let Link cry quietly into him as he rubbed his back. 

“We are not going back and I am not going into those dungeons. No one knows where we are and I plan on keeping it that way. Do you trust me?” he asked. 

Link nodded into his chest as his crying dissolved into sniffles. Lennon placed a hand on his forehead and winced. He was still burning a fever. 

“You feeling okay?”

“I’m okay,” he replied weakly.

“It’s okay to say if you’re not”

“Okay,” Link whimpered, letting himself go limp in his father’s arms. 

For a long while they stayed like that. Lennon leaned back and supported himself on one arm and used the other to keep Link steady on his lap. Lennon pondered on what it must be like to be a child. To never be in control of what was happening to you. To have blind trust that the adults around you are making decisions in your best interest and to learn to survive when they don’t. He wondered which group he fell into. He felt the bitter taste of inadequacy at the back of his throat as he took in their situation. Here he was, his child’s last surviving parent, forcing him to hide away in a grove of trees, flushed with fever on the hard ground. He should be tucked away in his own bed in their home with a mother to care for him. A mother who would know just the right things to say and just the right things to do in order to soothe him. Lennon suddenly felt very guilty.

“Link...is this okay?” he asked cautiously. 

Link stirred in his lap before sitting up to look at him, confusion lining his features. 

“I didn’t even ask you what you wanted. Maybe you wanted to stay in the castle. I just forced you into this. If you really want to go back, I’ll take you back. Just say the word”

“I want to stay with you,” Link replied, “I don’t want to go back”

He laid back on his father’s chest and Lennon felt him settle. He wrapped his arm back around him and laid his head upon his son’s. He was just like Ellia in the sense that he craved physical affection. She was always holding his hand, putting a hand on his lower back, or leaning into his side when they were together as if her touch would permanently bind them. Link was much the same. As a much smaller boy, he clung to his mother and she was always running a hand through his hair or holding him tight. Lennon hadn’t had too much time to spend with Link since he had returned from Hateno alone. He pulled him closer, trying to fit all those missing years of embraces and touch into this one moment. 

“We won’t be able to stay in Hateno very long. That’s the first place they will want to look for us once they notice we’re missing. But it takes a few days to send word back to the castle and we should be gone by then. But after that...we can go anywhere. Is there somewhere you would like to go? Something you’ve always wanted to see?” Lennon said as Link struggled to keep his eyes open.

“Do people really climb Death Mountain? Or is it too hot?” he asked, causing the edges of Lennon’s lips to lift in a smile. 

“It is incredibly hot there, but we could try. You’d also get to meet a Goron,” Lennon explained. 

“A Goron?”  
  
“Oh yes,” Lennon smiled, imaging the look on Link’s face the first time he saw one of the gravel born inhabitants of Hyrule, “I have a feeling you will like them” 

“Can we go see Mipha?” Link asked, a small but noticeable change in his demeanor evident in the way his previously small voice raised, “I miss her”

Lennon stilled at that thought, wondering if King Dorephan would accept asylum for them or if his loyalty to Rhoam was too great. He couldn’t risk their safety within knowing for sure. 

“Well,” he began, unwilling to break the hope he heard in Link’s voice, “I think we could certainly try. I bet she has missed you too. And your other friends”

“Do you think Sidon is big now?”

“The Zora grow much slower than we do. He’s probably still quite small, but you will look bigger to him,” Lennon continued.

“Oh, okay”

Another moment passed and Link slid further into his father’s lap, his breathing slowing. 

“Is it like a real adventure?” Link asked quietly as he slipped closer to sleep, feeling heavier and heavier.

“Yes, I would say so,” Lennon laughed, “shouldn’t a hero know his kingdom?”

“ _ Hero,” _ Link whispered as if the word itself held a tangible power. 

“One day, yes. But not yet. For now you can be just Link, okay?” Lennon replied.

But Link did not respond. Lennon looked down at the boy in his lap who had fallen asleep. It took him a moment to notice that Link’s hand was wrapped around his own. He gently squeezed his son’s hand and closed his eyes shut, imaging Ellia looking down upon them. Would she be proud? All she had ever wanted was for Lennon to come back to them. To put his family before his duty for once in his life. He knew it was a little late, but he hoped he could make up for lost time. 

There would be no sleep for Lennon as Link lay and rested. He carefully lifted the slumbering boy and tucked him safely under the flap of his bedroll, gingerly placing a wet cloth on his forehead and offering him water when his coughing roused him from sleep. As Lennon sat with his eyes on the edges of their camp, he envisioned a rogue Yiga soldier or a unit of soldiers barreling through the trees to steal their safety, their solitude, or their lives. But none came. Only the sound of distant birdsong and the scurrying of small animals would catch his attention 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I moved and this chapter was half written at one house and then finished at the new one. It's been an adjustment, to say the least. But a good one. I'm hoping to keep updating more regularly as I live alone now and have more uninterrupted time. Hope you enjoyed!


	28. Home

When Link woke that evening it was with dull ache in his head and a weakness in his muscles that left him laying on the ground as his father packed their things. Despite his depleted state, he insisted he was well enough to travel and even climbed onto their mare himself just to show his father he could. They rode in relative silence and Link pondered what it would be like to rise with the moon for the rest of his life instead of the sun. He found a gentle tranquility in watching the sun tuck itself to slumber into the green hills. He closed his eyes and listened to the crickets serenading to one another and the frogs beeping in their distant ponds. 

Behind him, Lennon was trying to puzzle out how his rambunctious boy that used to communicate his every whim turned into the somber child before him, even without the pressure from the castle weighing him down. On more than one occasion he had attempted to talk to him but their conversations ended quickly with only short one word responses on Link’s end. He seemed very contemplative as they traversed the land as if he were committing each hill and dip in the Earth to memory. 

There is a certain melancholy that comes with the realization that your child has changed, though the process is inevitable. Maturity can round their sharper edges, quiet their once raucous laughter, and turn their imagination into more critical observations of the world. But for Link, Lennon realized his change had come not just from the normal ebb and flow of growing up, but also the experiences he’d endured. No child should have ever had to encounter what Link had. He knew there was no point in trying to determine how much of it he could have endured for him or saved him from. The past was there, permanent as a crack in a stone face. He decided to only look forward from that point. To ensure the rest of his formative years would be spent under his control. Link would learn to love the land of Hyrule and its people. To travel its pathways, to see the darker corners, to learn to protect himself from true danger and not an imagined foe. It was the best he could give him before the Goddess spirited him into territory where Lennon could not follow. Looking ahead, he spied a small pond glistening in the sepia tones of the late evening light. An idea struck him and he pulled their mare to its edge.

Lennon dismounted without warning, jousting Link from his thoughts to watch as his father shed his tunic and undershirt and rolled up the edges of his trousers before running full force into the pond.

“Dad!” Link called as Lennon waded deeper into the water, quickly ducking under its surface before coming back up, throwing his neck back in a quick motion, sending droplets of the cool water flying across the pond. 

“What?! I was hot!” Lennon laughed back as he let his legs lift from their suspended state to float at the surface. 

Link looked around them as if sensing for danger. But the land was empty just as it had been all evening, save for the occasional fox or hoot owl that hooted at them from the trees. 

“Come on! You’ll feel better if you cool down anyway,” Lennon said with an encouraging movement of his hands, urging Link to join him. 

Link hesitated before sliding down the side of their mare. Slowly, he removed his own shirt and rolled up his pants before letting the cool water kiss his bare toes. He shivered at the sudden temperature change. He walked slowly into the water, breathing deeply as each inch of him sunk deeper into the pond, stopping as the water lapped at the planes of his bare chest as Lennon beckoned him closer. 

“Oh come on, you swam like a little fish all over Zora’s domain. Why are you so timid now?” Lennon questioned as Link stood with his arms across his chest looking down at the water like it might swallow him whole. 

“What if I forgot how to swim?” Link asked timidly as he extended one arm and let the water rush over his flushed skin. His fever had receded enough to clear the fog in his head but traces of it still lingered. 

“A skill like swimming is muscle memory, son. Your body will remember. Have faith in yourself and just jump in,” Lennon replied, swimming closer as Link pondered his words. 

Link looked up at his father with determination in his eyes before leaping forward. He felt the cool water wrap around his body like a second skin, washing away the sweat and the dirt that had been clinging to him. With his eyes tightly shut, he imagined Mipha and Rivan and Bazz swimming in swift currents around him, laughing at the way his cheeks bubbled as he held his breath. He wondered if Mipha could reach inside his chest and heal the brokenness of his heart with her magic. He remembered waterfalls and the way his laughter carried across open water. He remembered the feel of his bare feet across the slippery walkways of the Domain and the smell of salted fish. Above all, he remembered what it felt like to be happy and whole. 

Above him, Lennon withheld his panic at his son's prolonged plunge as Link sunk deeper into the water before pushing off the bottom and bursting through the surface with the most triumphant smile across his face. 

“I did it! I remembered!” he nearly sang as he paddled and swam circles around his father who burst into laughter. 

“I told you! Now, watch out!” Lennon shouted as he sent a huge wave of water Link’s way. Link slipped under the surface again, but when he came back up, he sent an equally strong wave his father’s way. When Lennon resurfaced and the pond water drained from his ears he was met with the beautiful sound of Link’s uninhibited laughter. The sound of it was like the blossom of a new flower, the first ballad of a baby song bird, all things filled with hope and life. In that moment, everything they’d gone through to get to that point felt justified. He could almost picture Rhoam’s face contorted in anger as he sat perched in the empty throne room. The distance between them felt cathartic, like they were now in two separate worlds. 

The two of them splashed and played well into the night before Link’s splashes grew softer and Lennon could see the lethargy painted under his eyes, though he was now smiling through it. 

“Hey, remember this game?” Lennon said, capturing Link’s attention before diving underneath him, surfacing flat so that Link was straddling his back in a game they’d played at Hateno beach when he was younger. Link laughed and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck as Lennon paddled them to shore like a human sail boat. They quickly changed into dry clothes and Lennon rummaged through their things before finding something for them to eat. They ate quickly and remounted their horse in search of a suitable place to camp that wasn’t so exposed. 

As their horse cantered along, Lennon felt Link listing to the side. He wrapped an arm around him, a silent movement encouraging him to rest. Link obliged before turning to his side, throwing both of his legs over one side of the horse and wrapping his arms around his father’s torso. 

“This was a good day,” Link whispered as he settled into his father’s warmth. 

Lennon smiled and ruffled his still damp hair. 

“I thought so too,” he replied as Link drifted off to sleep.

When he felt that Link had fallen deep enough asleep not to wake at the movement, he stirred his horse into a steady gallop, hoping to see Hateno on the horizon before dawn. 

* * *

Although Hateno was just within reach, Lennon held off on entering the village until after nightfall. The two of them had spent the day camped just east of the town. Link had withdrawn again as soon as they neared Hateno. He kept a watchful eye on the quaint buildings in the distance as if at any moment they would come alive and come to crush him. Lennon did not know how Link would react to returning to where he’d lost Ellia. He didn’t know how he himself would react either, but he had steeled his heart and mind to remain calm, praying that Link would feed off it. 

When the last of the town guards seemed to settle at their posts and the last of the hearth fires smoldered to ash while their inhabitants settled in for sleep, Lennon and Link approached their old home. They came from behind so as to not draw attention. Link immediately stiffened at the sight of the backside of their old home cast in the faint glow of moonlight. Lennon felt him trying to breath deeply, fidgeting in his seat before him. He quietly started to panic as the line between memory and reality began to blur. Lennon wrapped a strong arm around him and held him close, feeling the frantic beating of his heart. 

“It’s alright, son,” Lennon tried to reassure him, “Just breathe. It’s okay” 

Link let out a strangled cry as he allowed himself to take in the entire scene. It was like living a nightmare. He’d imagined it so many times over the past year that it had almost felt distant at times. Like a half remembered dream. But to see it again...to see the shrouded ground where he’d spilled blood, where his mother’s warmth had faded into the coolness of that night...it was becoming too much for him to bear. He could almost hear the cackling of the Yiga, feel the unnatural rip of their skin at the end of his blade. He started to shake, upsetting their mount. Lennon struggled to keep him from falling off the saddle entirely as hot tears fell down his face, his features contorted in a silent scream. Somehow Lennon found enough leverage to safely slide them off their horse without being thrown and they fell in a heap on the ground. Their mare snorted, shaking off its own anxiety as it trotted towards their home and the green pasture that was their lawn in the spring. 

Lennon wrapped Link’s form in a bear hug, but he fought hard against it. He hadn’t realized how stout Link had become. It was almost like holding a much larger man as he thrashed and tried to escape his arms. Eventually, Link’s raw strength won out and he burst out of his father’s arms and began a mad dash for the woods just as he had done the night of her death; some primal force within him screaming for escape, though he had no thoughts of where he would go. Only that he couldn't be _there. _Lennon cursed to himself and ran after his son, knowing he would never be able to catch him if he continued at that pace. 

“Link!” Lennon called out, but Link was deaf to his pleas. 

He surged forward blindly, mind clouded in fear, heart veiled in torment. The tears in his eyes blurred his vision and before long he was stumbling. It didn’t take long before his foot crashed on an exposed root and he tumbled hard into the ground, his face making angry contact with the rough bark of a tree. The force of the impact nearly stunned him as he tumbled across the ground. His overwrought body finally stilled in a small heap as he suddenly lost all momentum. He covered his scraped and now bleeding face with his hands and curled into himself as he tried to catch his breath. 

Lennon had to vault over Link’s body to avoid crushing him. He swerved to a stop in the underbrush and turned on his heel, falling to his knees and wasting no time in wrapping Link in his arms again. He was trembling and gasping for breath. Lennon shushed him and put a hand to his head, covering his ear with the flat of his palm and pressing his other into him so that the sound of his heart would drown out everything else. He held him like that until he felt the fight drain from his body. Slowly, he released the hand covering his ear and smoothed back his matted hair. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I should have been here with you. You shouldn’t have that memory nor that pain in your heart. I failed both of you” 

Link’s head shot up so quickly it nearly knocked Lennon flat on his back.

“It’s _my_ fault,” he choked out, “Not yours”

“Link how is it-” Lennon tried, but Link quickly cut him off. 

“They were looking for  _ me.  _ Because I’m the hero. Impa said the Yiga hate the Hero. They wanted to kill  _ me _ , not her. It is my fault. She’s not the hero.  _ I am _ ,” he declared, the determination in his eyes was enough to make Lennon feel very small. He spat the word hero out like a bad taste in his mouth. A curse. A shadow that had cast his once brightly illuminated life into darkness and taken from him all he had loved. His home. His normal life. His mother. All for a destiny that had latched itself to him unknowingly and without his permission. Lennon took a deep, calming breath before moving Link to sit before him. He calmed himself as he wrapped the edge of his sleeve around his palm, gently dabbing at the oozing shallow wounds on Link's face. 

“You’ve told me a little about what happened here,” he began softly, Link watching him intently, “but I think you’re holding a lot of it back. You can’t keep it inside, Link. It will fester and it will rot you from the inside out. Talk to me. Tell me what happened. Tell me what you’re running from” 

Link’s eyes rimmed in fresh tears. He  _ had  _ been pushing it away and the force it took to keep it at the edge of his mind had been draining him for months. But he was frightened and he knew real heroes were never scared and he worried what his father would think of him. Lennon brushed a tear from his cheek and his touch gave him enough courage to speak. 

“They kept pushing me on the ground and laughing,” he started, sniffles punctuating every few words. 

“Mama woke me up and we were trying to get to Sir Thomas. Sir Thomas wanted to stay outside our door but Mama told him we were safe and he listened to her”

Lennon could almost see Ellia dismissing a guard from her door. He knew the command she could yield with her voice and was not surprised Thomas had fallen prey to it. Thomas may have been a cheeky lad, but he was not one to disrespect a woman's wishes. 

“Mama told me to run to Thomas but they were there and they grabbed her and I was so confused and scared and I didn’t know what to do” 

Lennon nodded, motioning for him to continue. Link took a deep, almost stuttering breath and continued on. 

“Then...it was like...I wasn’t me. I remembered something I’ve done before...but I’ve never done before...and I moved so fast and hit that soldier and took his blade,” Link’s brows lurched together as he tried to put into words the unworldly force that had taken over his body. 

“And it went so fast and then I heard Mama crying. They shot her, Dad. They put an arrow in her from so close and and and…” he started taking sharp intakes of air again as the visual one it overwhelmed him. 

“Take a breath,” Lennon urged, “Deep like this,” he said before he modeling a breath of his own. It was one of the only tactics the soldiers had been taught to ease their own anxieties before battle, to take command of their own bodies and force the panic to recede before it overwhelmed them. 

Link took several shaky breaths, putting his hand on his heart to feel it’s racing pace slowly dwindle. Lennon busied himself tending his own aching heart. He hadn’t allowed himself to visualize Ellia’s last moments until then. Thomas’ report had been vague and Link had given him a few details before, but not enough to paint the entire picture. To have everything laid out for him again was taxing for both of them, but he'd have his moment later. Right now, Link needed him. 

“And then...I thought I could save her. But I wasn’t fast enough. He stabbed her so many times. Too many times and then I was frozen and I just stood there and it should be me. I should be dead and Mama should be alive and someone braver could be the hero!” Link exclaimed as he fell forward into his father again, having finally freed the demons that had been haunting him. The guilt of it was like a parasite burrowing into the furthest reaches of him, souring him rotten in places no one could touch. 

“You’re right,” Lennon said, causing Link to shrink in his grasp, “they were here for you because of who you are. I don’t know how they knew or how they found you, but evil is a special magic that only those who wield it truly understand. But you are wrong about other things”

Link sat up to look at him, perplexed.

“It is  _ not  _ your fault and no one should be dead. Not you and not your mother. The world doesn’t need a better hero, because they have you. And you are enough. Your mother knew this and she kept you safe as long as she could. She would have died 1000 times if it meant you were to live,” he continued despite the confusion pulling at Link’s face. 

“But how do you now know that?” he asked, unbelieving.

“Because I would do the same,” Lennon said firmly.

“Cause I’m the hero?”

“Because you're my son and I love you _ ,”  _ Lennon corrected, taking both of Link’s hands in his own. 

Link wiggled out of his grasp to wrap his arms around his father’s neck. All that energy he’d spent harboring a guilt he was sure would crush him began to ebb away. Though he could feel his father’s love, he’d convinced himself deep down that he still blamed him for what had happened. He’d spent many nights wondering if his father had ever wished his mother had survived instead. To hear it straight from his mouth that he not only didn’t blame him for his mother’s death, but also loved him for _him _and not because of the role he’d come to carry was an immense relief. He could almost feel the tension melting away from his muscles and puddling like early morning dew, soon to dissipate in the warmth of the sun. 

“These are your truths now. They’re ugly and they hurt, but they are yours,” Lennon spoke into Link’s hair, “I’ve killed and I’ve lost and I know the heartbreak both bring. But you must find a way to reconcile the past with your future. Don’t let it crush your spirit and prevent you from living. Besides, I want to remind you of something”

“What?” Link said as he untangled from his father again, sitting back on his heels before his father who still knelt before him. 

“Out of all the brave little boys and girls, the battle hardened war veterans, the vicious soldiers under Rhoam's command, the ruthless mercenaries that roam our lands, who was it that was chosen by the Goddess herself?” Lennon asked.

Link looked lost as he searched for the right words. 

“Me?” 

“And why do you think you were chosen?” Lennon pondered aloud, watching as Link worked the thought around in his mind. Lennon often wondered if Link himself had seen the Goddess in his dreams. They seemed vivid enough that he was surely seeing  _ something  _ as he tossed and turned and mumbled in his sleep. But he’d never heard his son mention anything and he’d never dared to ask, almost fearful of what he would hear. He based his knowledge of his son’s destiny solely on Ellia’s unwavering insistence and the circumstances of Link’s ability and his unlikely survival in Zora's Domain. He wasn’t sure how much of Link’s own acceptance of his role was due to his age and his tendency to believe who he considered trustworthy adults, or if he’d had his own experience that solidified it for him. 

“Because Hyrule needs me,” Link whispered, echoing the words he’d heard so long ago from the woman in light, “And I fight really good?”  
  
“Yes,” Lennon smiled sadly, “but can you think of anything else?”

Link thought for a moment. To him, to be a hero was to be a warrior and nothing else. The heroes of the past were described for their bravery and their valor and their heroic deeds. He shook his head, unable to come up with any reason that he might fit that image when in his mind he was still a very small and unsure child. 

“You are strong,” Lennon said, emphasizing his words with a steady grip on Link’s shoulders, “You are courageous, even when you feel like you're not. You are honest and kind at an age where most children only see the world for themselves. You are compassionate and when you love, you love with your entire being. In my eyes, that’s why you were chosen. Because Hylia could see you were much more than just a swordsman. You have so much more to offer Hyrule than just ‘fighting good’” 

Link sniffled and wiped his dwindling tears off his face as he stared straight into his father’s eyes. He’d been told affirming words before, but even in his young mind he knew that sometimes they were empty, only meant to make him feel better. But he found no deceit on his father’s face and he allowed his words to make a home inside him, chasing away the darkness that had settled there. 

“So tell me,” Lennon said, running his hands down Link’s shoulders to hold onto his elbows. Link responded by grabbing his forearms with his smaller hands, locking the two of them together, “Why are you Hyrule’s hero out of everyone else that could have been chosen?”

Link continued watching the lines move across Lennon’s face. He inhaled deeply as he tightened his grip, drawing courage from the man he’d seen as an embodiment of it his whole life. 

“I’m brave,” he said, his voice small. 

“What was that?” Lennon asked, tilting his head as if he couldn’t hear him. 

“I’m brave,” Link said again, this time putting more force behind his voice. 

“And what else?”  
  
“I’m strong and I’m brave _and _I fight really good,” Link said firmly this time with a sharp nod. 

“That you are, son” Lennon smiled at him before dropping his grip, pulling him in for a light embrace. 

“Let’s get you inside” 

The two of them made their way to the house, finding the front door unlocked. Inside, their past belongings were packed away in crates and shoved into a corner, presumably by well meaning villagers assuming that Lennon would have no use for a home since he’d taken up permanent residence at the castle. Part of him felt relieved at how different it made the space look. He could hardly cast his eyes at the loft, knowing that is where he would face his most painful memories. He sighed heavily and began to search through the crates for their casual clothing and other supplies they would take with them on their journey, blowing away layers of dust in the process. 

Link felt utterly depleted after his outburst and silently took a seat on the stairwell, leaning his head against the wall so he could watch his father look through their things. When Lennon had made a nice stack of supplies on their old table, he turned to face Link. Even though he’d spent most of the past few days sleeping, fatigue still clung to shadows of his face. Lennon tried to think back to the last normal day he’d had and found he couldn’t remember. He’d been rushed from one trauma to the next with barely any time to process or move forward. He lifted a hand to the boy’s forehead and while he still felt warm, he knew the illness was receding, leaving in its wake more exhaustion for the already weary boy. He vowed to let their last days in their home be healing for the both of them. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Link shook his head.

“Okay then,” Lennon replied, standing to check the state of the boy’s bed. He remembered the first time Ellia saw the pint sized piece of furniture that Lennon had cleverly thought to settle into the space underneath the stairs that had been previously used for storage.  _ It’s so tiny!  _ Ellia had squeaked as she held the small boy.  _ It’s like his own little nook!  _ A smile flickered across his face as he knelt and shook the dust from his covers and knocked the small pillow against the railing to encourage the rest of the dander to flee. Link let out a sneeze and rubbed his eyes. 

“Maybe that will make it somewhat feel like home?” he tried to smile at Link but his eyes were on the floor. 

“You should try to get some rest in a real bed and I’ll wake you in the morning. We’ve been nocturnal these past nights, you and I. It’s time we rejoined the living, don’t you think?”

Link weakly nodded and moved quietly from the stairs. Instead of laying on his bed, he merely sat on the edge of it. Something seemed to cross his mind as his brow slightly raised and he reached underneath the bottom edge of his bed and pulled several books presumably from where he’d stashed them long ago. Lennon’s heart warmed at the sight of them. Ellia had always asked that Lennon send literature from the castle for him to read. Most townsfolk did not have access to the libraries and print shops that the castle had to offer. Ellia had always insisted that Link practice reading, bribing him to bed with stories of knights and monsters and magic. He opened the dusty cover of one of his favorites and scooted back on his bed, relishing the opportunity to relieve his mind and his heart of his real world troubles in favor of fantasy. Lennon patted the boy on the head and turned to climb the lonely stairs. 

He tried not to picture his beautiful wife asleep under their covers as he shook out the dusty quilts. He pulled his legs close to his body, not imaging her legs reaching out to steal his warmth, usually scratching him in the process as she forced her way under one of his own. He silently thanked the last few days of travel for draining him of any energy he might have spent trying to find her in a place she’d never return. He drifted off to sleep to the sound of Link quietly turning pages under the stairs, the sound of it like small paper birds taking flight. 

Sometime later Lennon woke abruptly when he felt a shape at the edge of his bed that wasn’t there when he fell asleep. He groaned and sat up only to find Link curled and fast asleep there on top of the blankets holding his own quilt in his hands. He smiled at the boy and softly lifted his sleeping form so that he could tuck him under his own covers. He knew the child would grow far too quickly and one day would be embarrassed to share a bed with his father. But for now, he held him close and let the comfort that his presence brought lull him back into his own sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've learned that I have a thing for writing them cuddling and then sleeping. Link's been doing a lot of sleeping lately, but the visual of a sleeping Link just does something to my heart. Especially when I gave him that horrible panic attack. But going back to the scene of a trauma can be very triggering, especially for a young child. 
> 
> Also, I know they've had that conversation before, but their relationship has changed and it means something more to Link now. I wanted to convey how Link is finally coming to terms with his mother's death rather than pushing it aside and how his father is there to guide that process.


	29. Magical

Lennon lay and watched in silent contentment as Link slowly woke from his slumber. Lennon had opened his eyes with the dawn, a hard learned habit from years spent in military service at the castle, but when he’d found Link open mouthed and still very much asleep beside him, he could not convince himself to move. So he’d laid there and watched, waiting for the dreams that usually woke him, but none came. Instead, Link took in a long breath before stretching his entire body like a house cat, his lids slowly fluttering open, bathing the morning light in blue. 

“I’m very hungry,” he grumbled through his stretch, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a curled fist. 

Lennon laughed as he threw his legs over the edge of the bed, “I can light the stove and make us something warm, if you’d like. I’ve grown tired of apples and cold rice balls, how about you?”

“Oh yes, please. Can I help?” 

“Of course”

The two of them worked together to scrap together a warm breakfast that Link scarfed down with his old gusto. Lennon sat across from him and pondered how many mornings Link and his mother had spent just like this when he was away. While he chatted idly with the castle staff who delivered his lonely breakfast his family had been here, enjoying each other’s company in the cozy little cottage. Ellia probably sat quietly amused, nodding as Link prattled off about one subject or the next, his mind seemingly on a never ending cycle of movement just as his body was in those day where he was free and unburdened. He thought to ask Link if he had always helped her prepare their meals as he had been surprised how focused and patient he’d been while helping him that morning, but a knock on the door startled him from his thoughts. 

Link’s eyes flew up from his plate to meet his father’s, his wooden spoon suspended in the air, his mouth open as if he were trying to capture a stray fly. A brief flash of fear crossed his face as he closed his mouth in a tight line.

“It’s alright, I’ll see who it is,” Lennon replied, trying to not show his own trepidation as he walked slowly towards the door. He knew rationally that they hadn’t been gone long enough for any messengers to have delivered news of their absence, but it did not stop him from grabbing the hilt of his sword, tilting his body defensively as he cracked the door. 

Before him stood a withered old woman whose sagging features lifted at the sight of Lennon peering out the door. 

“Oh it is you,” she greeted him, “I saw the smoke from this old home and thought I was finally seeing ghosts, close as I am to the grave. But here you are, alive and well”

Lennon recognized the woman as the town’s healer, a gentle old woman by the name of Ethel. Hateno was lucky to have someone knowledgeable in the healing arts. Many smaller villages had to send out word for travelling healers when someone had a need and they often came too late to offer any real assistance. Ethel was a gentle soul who rose with the sun to gather her herbs to make her elixirs, always taking special care to keep her home fully stocked in case a farmer took a tumble in his fields or a hit from an ill placed tool. It had been her that had set Link’s leg when he’d fallen from their roof years before. He smiled down at her and opened the door a bit wider, releasing the tension that had coiled in his shoulders. 

“Good morning, Ethel. It’s been a long time,” he said, watching as she shakily placed her basket of herbs on the ground to reach for his hand.

“Please tell me your sweet boy made his way to you. After that awful night those soldiers wouldn’t let anyone near. I’ve fretted over him all this time, my heart could not stand the thought of him all alone,” her voice wavered, using what little strength she still harbored to squeeze his hand. 

He nodded with a small smile and stepped aside, gesturing at the boy sitting at the table. 

“Oh!” she cried, dropping Lennon's hands to rest over her heart, “there you are! Come here to me so I can get a good look at you!”

Link carefully laid down his spoon and shuffled over to his father, pressing his side into his father’s legs. Lennon reached down and put a hand on his shoulder and Link leaned into his touch. He remembered Ethel. The other children had liked to weave tales that she was a witch and they laughed at the stories she would tell them when they ventured near her home. But Link found her fascinating. She would tell him of fairies who could heal fatal wounds, talking trees that harbored hidden labyrinths full of mystery and power, skeletons that walked of their own accord under the light of the moon, and boys who could harness the power of beasts and transform themselves into wolves. In return for her stories, he would bring her trinkets and flowers and herbs that he’d stumbled upon in his wanderings. She never seemed to tire of his endless questions like his mother would, always indulging even his most wild imaginings. Some evenings Ellia would find him with a warm bowl of stew in his lap and the image of a giant fairy dancing in his head as he sat near her hearth. 

“Look how you’ve grown, you precious thing,” Ethel cooed at him, leaning over to cup his cheeks.

He shied from her touch but gave her a bashful smile. To Link, his memories of Ethel were of another lifetime. He felt a disconnect from the boy who used to climb the ivy on her back porch to reach the blossoms that grew there. He knew he was different now and trying to consolidate those differences pushed him to withdraw closer to his father’s touch, the only tangible reminder of his safety he had left. 

Ethel dropped her hands and shared a sympathetic look with Lennon who gave Link a comforting pat on his back. 

“I don’t think I’ve spent this long in your presence without hearing the sound of questions leave your lips. Have you asked them all, little one? Or are you afraid of their answers?” she regarded him, watching his body language as he wrung his hands and diligently looked at the floor. 

“He’s been through a lot, Ethel. I’m sure you understand,” Lennon said to her, hoping to spare Link from having to explain himself. 

“Ah, that I see…” she said slowly, smiling as Link lifted his sleeve to wipe a smear of breakfast from his lips. 

“Ethel, may I ask a great favor of you?” Lennon said, lowering his voice slightly as he glanced behind the woman into the town beyond, relieved to see that no other villagers had taken notice of their presence.

“Anything. Your wife and boy were nothing but kind to me when others were not. Often those of us that still carry knowledge and interest in the enchantments and mysteries of the past will be perceived as having one foot in the land of spirits and dark arts and the other in insanity. People tend to fear what they are not able to comprehend or explain simply. There were many times Ellia helped me when I needed it most, even if that only meant helping an old woman carry firewood. And your boy brought a smile to me even on my loneliest days. I owe you more than one favor, I would say,” she nodded.

Lennon felt a warmth at the thought of his family sharing their kindness with others. He cleared his throat that had tightened with emotion, unconsciously holding Link a little closer to him as he replied to her. 

“All I ask is that you don’t spread news of our return. We will not be here much longer and likely will not be back. I’m afraid I cannot give you more information, but it would be harmful for us if word spread that we were here”

The two adults shared a long look before Ethel broke her gaze to ruffle her hands through a small satchel at her side, pulling out a long slender plant peppered with delicate coral buds. Link craned his neck to get a better look at the strange plant as she held it out for him to see. 

“Link, do you remember when I told you and the other children about that little boy raised by forest spirits who could travel on the notes of a magical instrument as if his body transformed into the notes themselves, floating across all of Hyrule?” she intoned in that same voice she always adopted when spinning her stories. The one that always pulled him in. 

Link nodded, his attention fully on the way the fragile folds of her skin shifted as she spoke. 

“All of the other children laughed and told me I was a crazy old bat before running off in another game of chase. But not you. You stayed. Do you remember what you asked me?”

Link thought back on the memory, reaching into the farthest parts of his mind to recall it. He felt a flutter in his head like a butterfly taking a clumsy first flight and slowly, it came back to him. Though it took him a moment to answer, neither adult felt the need to rush him, allowing him the time he needed to push through his thoughts. 

“I said…” he began, his forehead thoroughly wrinkled in deep thought, “I asked you if he had to use different songs to go to different places. Otherwise, how did the instrument know where he wanted to go?”

A grin nearly buried the woman’s slanted eyes as they lit up at his response.

“That was when I knew there was something special in you. I want you to have this,” she said, putting the plant into his hands. He tilted his head as a gentle warmth blossomed in his palms. 

“Brew that little thing in a cup of tea with just a pinch of honey and a dash of cinnamon if you’re feeling upside down and you will feel magic that originated all the way across our land from the sands of the Gerudo desert,” she explained. 

“It’s magic?” Link whispered.

“What do I always say about magic? It is everywhere, you just have to know where to look,” she winked at him before straightening and turning to Lennon.

“I’ll make sure to stop by the dye shop and casually mention a stray traveler who offered some rupees to stay in this old house. I’ll make sure to detail it was an old man and his granddaughter on their way to Kakariko to taste pumpkins. That should be boring enough to keep the most inquisitive of your neighbors from trotting up the hill when they inevitably notice activity across the bridge. They are a nosey lot, as you know,” she said to Lennon, still smiling down at Link as he turned the small sprig of warm safflina over in his hands. 

“Thank you,” Lennon breathed, quite relieved. 

Ethel reached forward and gave Lennon an affectionate pat on the arm.

“You take care of him, you hear me?” she told him firmly, to which he responded with a short bow. 

Seemingly content to leave their interaction at that, Ethel grabbed her basket and began to shuffle down the hill, but stopped abruptly at the sound of Link calling after her. 

“Wait!”

She watched curiously as Link left his father’s side to scurry under their stairs, pushing objects around until he sprinted back to stand in front of her, holding a bundle of flint in his hands, extending it her way. 

“My, my you do remember, don’t you? I was always running out of this and my old bones were just too weak to carry me down to the beach to search for more. It's much easier on my old hands than starting my fires another way. Are you sure you want me to have this?” she said as she examined the hunk of flint in her hands. 

Link nodded with emphasis and stepped back in line with his father who watched the exchange with a small smile on his face. 

“There is a bright light that shines within this child, Lennon. Can you see it?” she mused, tucking the flint into her satchel. 

Lennon looked down at his son, remembering Ellia’s words. Though the world had done its best to snuff him out, he still shone on all those around him. He only wondered why he it had taken him so long to see it. He took a deep breath and put a hand on Link’s back, pulling him close once more. 

“Always,” he replied. 

Ethel briefly closed her eyes and smiled before regarding Link one last time. 

“Thank you, Link. You are truly a blessing to Hyrule,” she said before walking away. 

* * *

That night, Link busied himself in his small space under the stairs, lining up a variety of seemingly worthless objects on his bed that he pulled from a box he seemed to conjure from the farthest corner of his little nook. Lennon sat at the table, looking over a map of Hyrule, marking from memory the military outposts he knew of and the routes they could travel to avoid them. As Captain, he’d sent many men away to those camps over the years and they were bound to recognize him. He lifted his gaze from his map to watch as Link held up a small shard of blue tinted glass to the light before laying it down almost reverently on top of his dirty sheet. He ran a careful finger over each one before tucking them into a bag and lifting up a loose floorboard, stopping before he lowered it down. He seemed to be questioning himself as it hovered above dirt. 

“What are you doing over there?” Lennon called out, quite interested in what he was up to. His spirits had lifted since Ethel’s departure, but he’d remained mostly quiet as he had the past few days. Lennon had come to understand that his silence was a new part of him that he had to come to terms with. Whatever musings Link now held, he kept them mostly to himself.

Link looked at him and blushed, self-conscious that Lennon had been watching him. 

“Can I see?” Lennon asked, making sure to keep his tone light, encouraging Link to talk to him. 

Link looked at the bag in his hand and walked to sit across from his father, reaching inside to line the objects up on the map. 

“Memories,” he mumbled as he held a small seashell in his hand. 

Lennon looked at him quizzically as he took in the objects. Some might have confused the collection as trash but they obviously held significance to Link. 

“Can you tell me?”

Link nodded and held his palm open so the shell rested on the callouses that had grown  there from his sword training. 

“Mama made us a picnic on the beach. We had tea and rice balls with cucumbers. When we got home I found this in our basket. Mama said it wanted to come home with us,” Link said, looking at the shell fondly before gently placing it on the table and lifting up a triangular shard of glass tinted blue. 

“I thought…” he said, flushing a deeper red, “I though this was a piece of the sky. Mama told me it might be and I believed her. She was just telling a story but I kept it,” he shrugged sheepishly, embarrassed at his childish thought as he said it out loud.

Lennon laid down his quill and leaned closer to the table to make a show of inspecting it. 

“It’s the same color as the sky,” he observed, “and we’ve certainly never been high enough to touch it, so who are we to say it’s not? Perhaps we could ask a Rito”

Link’s eyes widened as he tried to remember what a Rito was. He’d never seen once, but he’d heard stories. As a littler boy, he’d been quite jealous of their ability for flight and often prayed at night that he’d grow wings by morning. He wondered if they really had touched the sky or if the sky had a limit or kept going on and on forever. 

“What’s this one?” Lennon asked, pointing to the small chunk of luminous stone rocking gently back and forth over the portion of the map that indicated the moats of Hyrule Castle. 

Link picked up the stone and cradled it in his hands. 

“You surprised me that one day,” he said, looking down at the rock, “we found this on the beach”

Lennon puzzled over that thought a moment before the memory clicked in his mind. He’d returned home to find their house empty and briefly panicked before a neighbor informed him they’d seen the two of them off towards Hateno beach early that morning. The roadways had been much safer then and Ellia often took Link on long hikes to release some of his energy into the wilds. Lennon had sprinted almost the entire length of the trial to reach them faster, slowing his footfalls when he heard the unmistakable sound of Link’s laughter over the sand dunes.

“That was a very good day, I remember. It was one of my favorite visits. That was a long time ago, I’m surprised you still remember”

“I do remember,” Link said quietly, still holding the stone, “You said...this rock had magic from the sea inside that made it glow”

Lennon didn’t recall that specific conversation, but he did remember the doe eyed look Link would get when he mentioned anything magical. He went out of his way to awe the boy just to see the way it made his eyes sparkle. Ellia would tease him and say he was responsible for the torrent of questions that would come afterwards and he took it in stride, doing his best to explain how big rocks become smaller rocks and trying to convince Link that rocks did not, in fact, have human emotions and did not get forlorn when a piece of them tumbled away. It had taken Lennon some practice to be able to engage in that type of dialogue with his son, as he was a much more practical conversationalist, but Ellia had shown him the way.  _ The way he sees the world is so uniquely his own. Talk to him and he’ll take you there,  _ she’d told him. That was how that particular piece of rock had some into Link’s possession. Lennon had stepped, with ready invitation, into Link’s mind and planted a seed of mystery there that had only grown, fueled by a child's imagination. 

“I thought it would light up when you were thinking of me from far away,” Link said quietly, letting it rest back on the table. He shifted his eyes to look at anything but Lennon, folding his hands in quiet anxiety in his lap. For all his once boisterous tendencies, he held a certain shyness about him that was quite endearing. Lennon smiled at his son’s soft embarrassment at his naivety from the past. He’d grown and matured so much from the little boy who flopped around on Hateno beach. But Lennon wasn’t quite ready to let that little boy go, not yet. He glanced to the soft moonlight reaching through the glass of their window and an idea took root. 

“I think we should test it out,” he said, catching Link by surprise. 

“Really?”

“Yes, really. You hold it and I’ll think about you and we’ll see if the magic is still there,” he said as he stood and walked around the table to kneel behind him so that they were eye level with one another, strategically shuffling Link’s chair at just the right angle. Link turned to eye him, clearly puzzled, but Lennon only took in a dramatically deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Link breath out a small laugh before turning back to hold the rock up in front of his eyes as Lennon knew he often did when examining things. A small gasp escaped the boy’s lips as the moon kissed the edge of the stone, filling its transparent layers with light. Lennon peaked around his shoulder and found a look of wonder resting on Link’s face as he took in the soft glow. 

“It does work,” Link said before turning to smile at his father, emanating a light that was much more enchanting than a luminous stone could ever hope to be. 

Lennon simply watched as Link hopped down from his chair with the stone still in hand. He knelt at his bed and slowly placed all the objects back in their pouch before securing them under the loose floorboard. 

“What are you doing that for?” Lennon asked, puzzled.

“I don’t need them anymore”

Overcome by a sudden wave of affection, Lennon lurched forwards and tackled his son into a bear hug that left Link breathless and whining. 

“Dad! Stop!” 

But Lennon didn’t want to stop. He wanted to spend the rest of his days watching Link marvel at Hyrule’s infinite curiosities. He wanted to drown the memory of his years spent in fruitless dedication to a King who failed to see the irony of extinguishing the light inside his son in the name of battling darkness. He wanted to give Link the father he knew the boy had often only fantasized about in the long months of his absence. But more than anything in that moment, he just wanted to hear him laugh. So he ran his fingers down to the softness of Link’s belly and their home filled to the brim with the sounds of their laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the plot is slowing down just a bit. It's another transition period, but I'm sure you're enjoying the lack of heartache here. I'm overdue for an entire chapter of fluff after what I've put you through. 
> 
> On a side note, my cat was determined to sabotage my editing process by insisting he just absolutely must frantically make biscuits on my arm while I type. So if there's errors, it's his fault.


	30. A Last Goodbye

Link and Lennon kept to themselves the next day, both of them taking advantage of the rare opportunity to have time that was blissfully free from obligation and duty _ .  _ Lennon sorted through their old belongings, occasionally feigning work to watch Link out of the corner of his eye. They had agreed that morning to stay indoors during daylight hours to avoid unwanted attention from the other villagers. Lennon had almost anticipated Link to have an issue with this, as it had been unheard of for the boy to sit still and wholly occupied for long lengths of time without stimulation. Ellia had painted a moving picture of a child that was always climbing, dashing, darting, or sprinting somewhere to do something in the letters she flooded him with during his stays at the castle. Part of him had been praying that Link would shift easily back into his old self upon being relieved of duty and returning home. He wanted a chance to spend time with that version of Link, the boy who had returned to him bright eyed and full of wonder at the castle before he was recognized as something other than his son. He wanted to chase him off rooftops and pull him back into the saddle when he inevitably flew from his seat. But this Link had quietly obeyed, shifting between helping his father to calmly reading his books while sitting on their stairs, sometimes walking over to ask for help with a particularly difficult word. When he wasn’t helping or reading, he sat very still with a glassy expression across his face, almost as if his mind were somewhere else entirely. It was in those moments that Lennon found himself worrying for the well being of his son. He knew how to tend most physical wounds and had seemingly nursed him well enough through his illness, but he was lost when it came to matters of the mind and heart. That type of damage wasn't quite so clear in the terms of remedies. He stood silently and watched as Link stared into the small fire he had stoked as evening fell, mumbling something under his breath while his fingers traced invisible images into the dust on the floor. 

“Hey,” Lennon said, shoving the last of the boxes off to the side, having extracted all the items he’d found that would be useful on their trip.

Link seemed to snap out of his thoughts as he turned to smile softly at him. 

“Sooo...” Lennon said, walking around the table to sit beside him on the floor, leaning back to balance himself on his palms, “We should leave tomorrow. I had a few places in mind we might go. But I wanted to ask you. Where do you want to go?”  
  
Link turned and watched the fire again. He liked the way it seemed to dance as it trailed off into lazy streams of smoke. If he squinted, he could almost see the shapes of people dancing between them. It reminded him of his mother, just like everything else in that house. Every year in the autumn, Hateno would host a festival to celebrate the season’s harvests and every year they would enjoy the festivities together. They would spend the day sampling the village's best sweets and by the end of the night she’d have him twirling to the cheery tunes of a fiddle played by the slightly intoxicated stableman. It had been easier for him to push the pain of her absence away while at the castle where his memories of her were few. But here in the home they shared together, a place where he almost expected to hear her voice calling him to bed or chastising him for tangling brambles into his hair again, it weighed heavily upon him. He knew he would be leaving. He knew he’d already said goodbye. But he’d lived his whole life under the protection of that home. To leave it for the last time was like leaving another grave.

“Link?” Lennon reached out to put a hand on his back. 

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly.

Lennon let out a slow breath and wrapped his arm around Link’s back, pulling him close. 

“Were you happy here?” Lennon asked as Link softly rested his head on his side. 

“Mhm”

“You know, I didn’t want you to live here. I wanted both of you to stay at the castle with me. But your mother insisted. She called it a gloomy gray prison. Said you needed fresh air to run and play. Did you know you almost fell off the castle balcony once? Gods, you had to have barely been a year old. Saw a dragonfly and chased off after it. Once you figured out your legs you were unstoppable. I had to agree with her after that,” Lennon rambled, smiling to himself at the memory of a toddling Link. He’d been so cute with his round face and the way he propelled himself forward on wobbly legs, a laugh almost always on his lips. It had been far easier to contain the exuberant child when he simply admired the world from the safety of his mother’s arms, occasionally reaching out for anything that caught his interest, which had proven to be anything and everything within his reach. When he’d finally mastered walking, Ellia was constantly pulling him this way or that. She would swoop him up before he tumbled off a tall walkway or waddled directly into the training yard to get to his father despite the abundance of weaponry swinging all around him. It was what sparked the discussion of the move that eventually severed the small family. 

“Why didn’t you come with us?” Link asked, pulling his legs up to his chest so he could rest his hands on his knees, “Why couldn’t we stay together?”

“I…” Lennon faltered, feeling that familiar guilt building in his throat, “When I was a little boy like you I would dream of being a knight just like my father had been. I had been told all my life that my greatest achievement would be my service to Hyrule and the royal family and I believed that for a long time. It wasn’t until recently I discovered how wrong I was”

Link looked up at his father, the amber light from the fire dancing in his irises like the sunset over Lake Hylia. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“My greatest achievement was never my knighthood. Or being named Captain. It was never the respect I garnered from the King, for all that’s worth now,” he laughed bitterly, “in fact, I let my life’s purpose go in the arms of the woman I loved as she sat in the back of a wagon headed to Hateno. I let him grow up here in the quaintness of this little village where he could run and explore freely without expectations”

“You mean me?” Link breathed as he stared at his father, who nodded at him with a small smile. 

“The moment the two of you left, the castle never felt the same. I was still bound by my duty to the King and that obligation is what ultimately kept me there. But that drive I had as a younger man was gone. I was under the illusion I no longer had a choice in the matter. I’m ashamed that it took losing your mother and then almost losing you to understand that there is more to this life than titles and accolades. I would have been a much happier man if I’d only seen that sooner. You always have a choice, Link. Even when destiny seems to be forcing your hand. You will always have a choice”

Link seemed to soak up his words like a sponge thrown into the sea. Lennon watched as his eyes scanned the wood grain on the floor before him as if it held the answers to all the questions pinging inside his head. 

“Home is where we are together,” he said suddenly as if the thought conjured itself into his mind, “Mama said that”

Lennon smiled softly at him, “she told me that too,” he answered.

“So we can go anywhere and we will still be home, right?”

Lennon nodded and watched as the wheels turned in Link’s head. 

“I need to do something,” Link said, pushing himself off the floor. 

He stood resolutely and walked to the door, hovering his hand over it. Lennon watched him curiously as he seemed to be waiting on something. It suddenly dawned on him he was silently asking for permission.

“Link, I’m not your captain anymore. Just your father. You don’t have to ask permission for every little thing. We are free here” 

To that Link nodded and then cracked the door. Before he stepped out, he turned to look at his father again. 

“It’s dark enough. Just stay in the yard and be safe, okay?” Lennon reassured him, pretending as if he wouldn’t be at the window watching his every movement. He wanted to grant Link this moment of privacy, but he also wanted to ensure a stray Yiga wouldn’t swoop in and whisk him away.

Link nodded again before slipping out the door and into the soft embrace of the calm Hateno evening. When he returned about an hour later, he was flushed and covered in a light layer of sweat. Lennon had watched as he diligently worked to gather small bundles of flowers and separate them into distinct bundles. He’d also gathered small stones and had seemed to arrange them in some unknown pattern just beneath the blossoming apple tree in their front yard. Once he appeared satisfied with his work, he gathered up the bundled flowers and sprinted back to their home where he stood in the doorway. 

“Can you...will you come with me?” Link asked, holding out one of the bundles for Lennon. 

Lennon took the flowers and looked them over. They were a delicate, almost royal blue with a soft bundle of yellow pollen settled in the middle. Though Link had always been drawn to nature, it was usually insects and small animals that caught his attention, not flowers. They had mostly proven too sedentary for his interests. But Lennon could tell from the way he’d picked these that he’d taken care to do so carefully and with purpose. 

“What are these?” he asked, looking down at Link who held a similar bundle, though his held a single white and baby blue blossom in the middle. 

“Nightshade,” Link answered, pointing to the darker flowers, “and this one is a Silent Princess. They are hard to find so I only picked one so the rest could grow” 

“How do you know so much about these?” Lennon asked, smiling at the way Link had carefully braided a small bundle of green weeds to bind them together. 

“Zelda,” he said quietly, “she taught me. She’s very smart,” Link added, nearly mumbling, a dash of pink peppering his cheeks as he toed the ground nervously with the tip of his boot. 

Lennon smiled at his bashfulness and thought of the Princess. They were so similar in age and in circumstance. Both children who had lost their mothers far too young, both suffocating under the hand of destiny. But where Zelda also suffered under the boot of an overbearing father, Link would now be free for as long as Lennon could make it so. 

“I just thought...everyone brought flowers for the Queen but she didn’t have any…” Link muttered, gesturing at what Lennon could now see as a small mound of Earth down the hill. 

Realization rushed through Lennon like a flash flood and he nearly fell on his knees, all thoughts of the Princess washed away in a fresh torrent of grief. It was her grave. He’d been gathering items to decorate her grave. 

“You want to...to have a funeral for her, don’t you?” Lennon said, his voice tight as he nearly crushed the stems of the flowers in his hands. 

“I helped Sir Thomas. But I didn’t give her any flowers. I didn’t know she was supposed to have flowers. So many people came to say goodbye to the Queen but Mama just had me and I didn’t...I didn’t do a very good job that day,” Link said, gazing off into the distance as he tried not to recall the hollowness that had occupied him the day he’d helped dig her grave. More than anything he just wanted to show that she’d been important too. He didn’t want to leave without telling her goodbye properly and this was the only way he knew how.

“I think it's a wonderful idea,” Lennon choked out as Link took his hand and led him to sit beside the small mound before gingerly placing the flowers upon the new grass that had begun to grow there. 

Sitting before her resting place, watching as Link clasped his small hands and seemed to pray, finally seeming to be at peace, Lennon allowed himself to feel it fully for the first time. He didn’t stop the tears that flowed down his face, nor the pained sob that escaped his lips. He continued to cry, even when he felt Link wrap his arms around him. As he cried, Link did his best to soothe him. Even in his grief, his son’s thoughtfulness brought a bittersweet smile to his face. 

“It’s okay, Dad,” Link said, “I cried too”

“She would be so proud of you,” Lennon lamented, “I just wish she were here to see it”

“Me too,” Link whispered as he leaned on Lennon’s shoulder and looked at her grave. He’d carefully arranged the smoothest rocks he could find to recreate the symbol he’d seen on the Queen’s casket; a trio of triangles. He knew it was a symbol of great power to the royal family. One that designated its wearer to be of great importance. It had felt right to him that she should have one too. 

The two of them sat in quiet repose as Lennon’s cries calmed to deep sniffles. He sighed deeply, feeling the relief of his release already washing over him as he watched Link trace his fingers over one of the stones. He was grateful to see the composure the small boy now seemed to carry, having released his own demons the night before. He took comfort in the fact that he seemed to finally be healing from her loss and the guilt it had buried inside him and he felt a small swell of pride that he'd been able to assist him with getting there. _Perhaps_, he thought to himself,_ I make a good father after all._

“Let’s not leave her like this,” Lennon said, wiping the tears from his face, “tell me your happiest memories of her. The ones that make you smile. That way when we leave, we will have left her with our happiness and not our sorrow”

Link thought for a moment. There were so many things he could say, so many times she’d made him smile. It was hard to choose just one. 

“One time I was trying to show her a baby snake I found in our garden. She was so frightened that she dropped a whole bag of potatoes. I wanted to keep it, but she told me it missed its family and was probably sad so I let it go. She was being silly. Snakes don’t have families,” Link said, a grin growing across his face as he remembered how she’d shrieked at the reptile wiggling in his hands and how she had tried to keep her composure long enough to convince him to let it go free.

“You little rascal!” Lennon laughed, ruffling his hair, “She always hated snakes”

“Yeah, but I like them”

They laughed together as Lennon laid back in the grass after a long exhale, Link following suit. 

“Long ago when she was newly pregnant with you, she woke me up in the middle of the night demanding me to find her some sweets. This was long after the castle kitchens had closed, but she made me scour the entire castle until I finally found a piece of fruitcake. Do you know what she did after she ate it?” Lennon asked, turning to look at Link, the grass tickling the side of his face,  “She vomited all over the floor”

“Gross!” Link giggled, Lennon joining him. 

When their laughter subsided, Link seemed to grow quiet and more contemplative. Lennon sighed and watched as he seemed to be searching the stars. 

“You loved mama for a long time?” Link asked, keeping his eyes on the sky, “Even before me?”

Lennon propped himself up on his elbow and smiled sadly.

“Yes I did. I was blessed to have found my match in her. I only thought I was happy before we met, but she showed me so much more. I truly didn’t know what happiness was until she came into my life. It's hard to put it in so many words, but she filled in all my empty spaces. Made me whole. One day when you fall in love, you will understand,” he tried to explain. 

“Do you have them again now?” Link asked after a moment of sorting through his father's words, his voice small.

“Have what?” 

“The empty spaces”

Lennon closed his eyes and smiled through the fresh tears that had gathered at the edges of his eyes. Link may have had the strength of a warrior and the blessing of a Goddess, but he was still a child with a child’s mind. 

“No. I’ll never stop missing her, but she didn’t leave us entirely, son. A part of her will always live on through you” 

Link looked to the sky, the twinkling of the midnight stars. He didn’t know much about the Spirit Realm, only that it was an invisible place where people went when they passed on from this realm. He wasn’t sure if it occupied the same space he was in, like two tea cups nestled in a cupboard, overlapping the others' spaces while still maintaining their differences. Or if it was just out of reach, like the moon and the stars. Wherever it was, he hoped his mother had found her way there and if she could, he hoped that she could see that he was still trying to find his light, even if no one else could see it but her. In that moment, with his body nestled into the warm ground and his father beside him, he could almost convince himself that she was there too, smiling down with the light of the moon, telling him it was okay to leave her there. For the first time in a long time, he felt a familiar emotion bubble up inside him. He was excited. 

"Hey Dad," he finally said, sitting up and reaching to scratch the skin at the back of his neck where the grass had tickled him, "I think I know where I want to go"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this chapter written for like a week and it just never felt right, no matter how many times I rewrote it. But in the spirit of moving forward, I'm throwing it to the wolves and hoping it'll be okay. We need one last good father/son bonding time before we embark on our journey into the unknown. Well, unknown to you, I know where they are going. (;
> 
> Also, the "t" button on my laptop is sticky and I feel like I need anger management from how hard I have to hit it to make it type. Anyway! Have a great weekend! Hope you enjoy!


	31. Decisions

He knew he had to say no. And he had. More than once, but it felt wrong each time he’d done it. He had said no as soon as Link had suggested it. He then said no when he asked again quietly the next morning and said it for a final time just as they mounted their horse in Hateno. That’s when Link had stopped asking. He wanted Link to argue with him, to demand that he change his mind, but he hadn’t. Link had never been one to make demands, even in his younger days. Lennon was always amazed at the amount of manners Ellia had managed to instill in the wild boy. He never forgot to say “please” and “thank you” always adding a cordial “yes sir” and “no ma’am” even if he was muttering them while covered in mud, sporting a fresh hole in the knee of his pants. His mother had taught him that at heart, most people were good and that he needed to maintain his own goodness lest the world tip in favor of those who were unkind. So when Lennon had explained to him why they could not visit Zora’s Domain, he did not argue. He merely nodded like any good soldier taking orders but he also did not offer suggestions of where he would like to go instead, choosing to keep his thoughts to himself as he so often did now. So they had settled on aimless travelling and the topic was dropped. 

That’s how they had traveled most of the day after saying their final goodbyes to Hateno. Lennon briefly thought to get Link his own horse to travel on, but decided for selfish reasons that he enjoyed having the boy so close. He had waited to feel his familiar weight leaned back into his chest as the lull of the horse rocked him to sleep, though it never came. Link had seemingly rested well enough in Hateno that he stayed alert, if not a bit aloof, as they traveled arbitrarily north without a destination in mind, hoping to instead simply put distance between them and the castle. When the silence in his ears grew louder than the buzzing of the evening insects, Lennon found he could handle it no longer. 

“Hey, listen. I know you’re disappointed, but we just cannot go there,” he said, looking down to see if Link made any reaction to his words. He had not. He seemed to be comfortable enough inside his own mind. Lennon had learned to recognize the signs of it by now; a tilted head, a far off look, his fingers idly tracing patterns on whatever surface he could touch. If only he could take a peek inside to see what images and musing managed to hold his attention for so long, maybe then he could figure out how to pull him from it. He sighed and readjusted his grip on the reins, allowing the animal to slow to a comfortable pace. If they were going nowhere, there would be no rush. 

Link knew it bothered his father when he didn’t speak to him, but he didn’t know what else to say. Laying under the warm moon the night before his heart had pulled him in the one direction that felt safe and familiar. It was true that he longed to see the rest of Hyrule. He’d seen Death Mountain at a distance and heard rumors of the wild Faron jungles, but those were places his imagination had filled in the gaps for. He could learn their truths later. Zora’s Domain was real. When his mind went back there, he almost felt the cool stone beneath his bare feet, smell the salt in the air. But more than anything, he wanted to see his friends. True friends, unlike the children he’d played with in Hateno as a small boy who had dragged him around out of obligation to their mothers and their friendship with his own. He’d always been so much smaller than they had been. They’d teased him for his height and his closeness with his mother. They thought it strange he wasn’t allowed to play sword fights, especially given that his father was a knight. Though they did include him in their games, they never treated him as one of their own like the Zora did. He was always the odd one out or just the “little guy”. It was strange, he thought, that he felt so at home in a place where he was truly so different. 

When his father had asked him where he wanted to go, it was the only place that felt right. But now he knew it wasn’t possible. It was just one more thing being the “hero” had ruined for him. He was beginning to feel it was much more of a curse than a blessing, particularly if his nightmares were any indication. He was starting to wonder if the lady in light he’d seen so long ago had simply been mistaken. Maybe Hyrule didn’t need him after all. Maybe he was being punished now for pretending it still did. Surely there were others out there more competent than him. He hadn’t even found that magic sword Impa had told him about. How was anyone so sure that  _ he  _ was the hero and not some other little boy? Maybe while he was away the King would find the true hero and forget he ever existed and he could swim his days away with Mipha and Rivan and Bazz and perhaps learn to swim up the waterfalls instead of falling down them. 

“Let’s stop here for the night,” his father said behind him, breaking him from his spiraling. 

When Link blinked, it was as if he’d lost an entire day to his thoughts. Just that morning they’d slipped quietly away from their old home. Now it appeared that they were somewhere in the Nadyra Snowfield that sat nestled at the base of Mount Lanayru. Though the spring had tempered the cold to a bearable level, Lennon still wrapped a coat around Link’s shoulders, hoping to prevent his seemingly now cured illness from reemerging. The last thing he needed was for him to become sick again.

As Lennon cleared a spot on the cold ground to place their bedrolls, he too found himself lost in his thoughts. Arguably, they were closer to the Domain than anywhere else, save for a few scattered villages. But he couldn’t shake the image of Rhoam’s men storming through the softly lit corridors and dragging Link from his bed and back to his imprisonment disguised as training. He didn’t know at this point if they would swiftly execute him just to get him out of the way or if they would make him watch Link suffer. Kidnapping was a damnable offense, though he had to scoff at the idea of a man stealing his own son. 

When the camp was settled and Lennon had prepared them a small meal, he handed Link a bowl and tried to reason it out aloud. 

“We could go to Lurelin. If you’re wanting to swim, there is an entire shoreline there. Your mother always wanted to take you there,” he said, mostly to himself. Link was busy lightly blowing the steam off his soup, watching it swirl in little whirlpools in the darkening sky. 

“Or there’s Death Mountain. Sometimes the Gorons will travel up and down the more manageable trails. Or even Rito Village. Faron. We aren’t known in those places. We could pass as anyone else. You could even pick a different name to go by if you wanted. Like a game,” he suggested lightheartedly, hoping a chance to play pretend would pique his interest. He looked up to let his father know he was listening, but he only slightly shrugged in response. 

Lennon groaned and sat his bowl down, pinching the bridge of his nose. He tried to ransack his brain for any clerical information on troop movements he could remember about the Domain. He knew there hadn’t been a large unit sent since he himself had left. It wasn’t typical for the crown to keep soldiers there year round, but he could never anticipate the King’s movements now. Not since the Calamity had taken precedence over anything else. He tried to remember what had called the King's attention on the day they had left for Fort Hateno. It had something to do with the Domain, but the details left him. He had been otherwise preoccupied with other things and was unable to pay close enough attention to now recall that information. Had King Dorephan ceased trade? Was King Rhoam trying to build a garrison nearby? Had he requested more soldiers? Would he be sending representatives to handle a problem? None of it he had answers to. All of it ended with the possibility that someone would see them and report back to the castle. 

“Do we have to hide forever?” Link asked quietly after finishing his meal. 

Lennon sighed heavily and shook his head, his eyes still closed, fingers still pinching his nose like it could stem the negative thoughts from escaping him. 

“I really don’t know, Link,” he responded, exhaling most of his breath with the words, “I don’t actually know what we’re doing out here. I didn’t think this far ahead. I just wanted to get you out. I couldn’t stand it anymore”

Link took his spoon and lightly traced the edges of his bowl, feeling the texture of the wood scraping together through his finger tips. The motion was calming. He could almost feel his father’s frustration and it unsettled him. He’d only ever known him to be in control, whether of himself or the men he commanded. He didn’t think it quite possible that his father would ever not know what to do. 

“Is the King really that mad at me? He would look for me all the way here?” he asked timidly. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d forced his father’s hand in all of it. If he had only done what they had asked of him, perhaps they would be at the castle together. If he’d only told the Princess “no” instead of running off with her, he wouldn’t have had to go in that awful dungeon. His skin crawled at the thought of it like some appalling creature dragging across his skin. He remembered how the King had grabbed him by his arm and the despondent look upon Zelda’s face as she’d walked away. If only he had made a better choice, things could have been different. But he also realized that he didn’t want to be in the castle and he didn’t regret the time he’d spent with Zelda. Though the memory ended in a very dark place for him, the thought of her gentle smile, the way she had excitedly cataloged every flower for him, those thoughts were one of the few he could look back on fondly. Even when spring had come and wafted its warm currents through the corridors, he’d only ever felt cold and alone at the castle.  _ Is the Princess lonely now?  _ He wondered,  _ Will she find another to play with?  _ He wasn’t sure why her perceived loneliness made him feel lonely too or why the thought of her teaching another about her mother’s flowers made him feel something else entirely that he couldn't quite put a name to, though it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. 

“The King is mad at  _ me,  _ not you,” Lennon clarified, dropping his hands to fall limp in his lap, “I bet he’s so mad he broke that damn statue of himself he keeps in his office” 

“He had a statue of himself?” Link asked, making a face. He pictured the King’s form frozen in stone. He wondered if maybe that was what happened to him every night instead of falling asleep. Maybe his heart had never softened. Maybe it was still stone. Maybe that was why he seemed to act as if he no longer had one. 

“He’s the King, of course there are statues of him,” Lennon grumbled, the mere memory of sitting in that man’s office making the hair on his arms stand on end. 

“King Dorephan is way nicer than King Rhoam. He’s nicer to his Princess too,” Link said, causing a sly smile to grow on Lennon’s face, slowly easing the tenseness that had grown there.

“Always about the Princesses with you, isn’t it?” he teased, grinning at the way Link blushed and looked away. 

“You’ve got two Princesses now that are quite smitten with you” he egged on, reveling in the darker shade of red that crept across his son’s cheeks. 

“No they aren’t!” Link insisted, folding his arms across his chest, “They are just my friends!” 

Lennon threw his head back with laughter as Link pulled his knees up and hugged them, his brows bunched together in a pitiful scowl as he tried to express his discomfort with his father’s teasing. 

“But you’re right though…” Lennon said slowly as his laughter died down, “King Dorephan  _ is  _ nicer to his Princess. In fact, there were many times I saw him change plans just to please her. She’s basically the treasure of the whole Domain. If she knew you were in trouble, perhaps she could help us…” he thought aloud, resting his pointer finger under his nose as his thumb stroked his chin. 

Link perked up at the optimism in his voice. 

“The Zora don’t typically branch outside of their territory and other than a few trade routes, not many Hylians visit, unless they are sent on business. I cannot for the life of me remember the last time we sent a unit that way. There may be none there at all. I think...I think it’s worth a shot,” he said, lifting his face to watch Link as his face slowly lightened. 

And then it happened. He smiled at him. Not a forced polite smile one may give in passing, but a genuine, full face smile that lifted his cheeks and nearly hid the blueness of his irises behind the squinting of his eyes. A smile he often held when Lennon first opened their door when he visited Hateno. One that could reflect the full force of the sun in its fierceness. 

“Really?” he beamed, “We can really go?” 

“I said we could try,” Lennon cautioned, trying not to give him too much hope in case it ended in failure, but feeling his own lips curve up to match his son’s, “You better hope Mipha still thinks you’re cute and wants to keep you around instead of throwing us back to the castle”

“ _ Dad”  _ Link groaned, covering his face with his hands. 

Lennon found himself laughing again as Link’s look of horror faded into slight embarrassment. Before long, he could see the wheels turning in his head as his smile returned to him. 

“You think there’s another lynel up on the mountain?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“There’s my boy” Lennon chuckled as he gathered their supper supplies and readied their bedrolls for sleep. 

“Can I stay up and watch with you?” Link asked as Lennon motioned for him to lay and rest. 

“Usually the point of a man staying up to be on watch is so the other men can rest. If we’re both on watch, who is resting?” Lennon asked with a raised brow before softening his face and patting the ground beside him in invitation despite his words. 

To Link’s credit, he stayed awake far longer than Lennon anticipated he would. Link was known to miss a night of sleep every now and then, his mind too busy to shut off completely, but since beginning his training he had found the value in a night’s rest. He would often fall asleep on the benches outside of the barracks while they changed weaponry and Lennon would apologetically have to shake him awake. It would seem a regiment meant for grown men was taxing on a small boy, even if that boy was meant to be a hero. But now he sat beside his father, no strict schedule to follow, no line of soldiers to fight, and a small nugget of hope in his heart. He listened to the chirping of the nighttime crickets as they harmonized into a lullaby that ultimately had him slacking against his father’s arm, softly snoring his own melody to harmonize with the insects buzzing around them. Lennon leaned down to press a soft kiss in his hair before gently tucking him into his bedroll. He prayed their journey would find them safely in the humid air of the Domain and that he wouldn’t have to break the poor boy’s heart all over again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot picks up soon, I promise. I actually played Breath of the Wild on a borrowed copy that I no longer have. I'm relying on a map, my memory and the occasional video. So if I make a little topographical error, I am very sorry! 
> 
> Let's see what the Domain holds for our boy. (:


	32. Ambush

Link woke with the sun, brighter and happier than Lennon had seen him in months. He all but dragged his father atop their horse before they started the slow canter through the tall grasses. Lennon was relieved when they finally cleared the snowfield and he saw the tall stone arches of Lanayru Road. The trail was mostly unused, save for those taking the sacred pilgrimage up to Mount Lanayru and the small caravans of travelers coming and going from Kakariko Village. It was unlikely anyone who frequented the castle would be on that narrow road, nestled between the towering rock face and a small stream that lazily lapped against the old cobblestone road. 

Exhausted from a full day of travel, Lennon found himself sitting with an apple in his teeth watching as Link, barefoot with his trousers rolled up to his shins, waded around in the water looking for snails. 

“Look I’ve found another!” Link exclaimed, holding up his prize for his father to see. His wild hair was wet on the edges from where he’d held his face close to the water. He had a healthy rosiness to his cheeks now, replacing the pallor that had haunted him after the dungeons and his fever. Even the bruises on his wrists were fading to a soft green, easily hidden in the olive tone of his sun kissed skin. If one didn’t know any better, he was just like any other curious Hylian boy trolling about the river in search of prizes. The thought of it made Lennon smile. It was one small victory he'd managed to win in this seemingly endless war they'd found themselves in. 

“What do you plan on doing with all of those?” he asked as he watched Link look over his current catch as if it were any different from the last dozen he’d rounded up. 

“What are these called?” Link asked instead of answering, scrunching up his nose as he quickly decided that smelling the creature was not as informative as he had thought it would have been.

“Sneaky river snails,” Lennon explained, quietly amused at Link’s serious face as he studied the animal. 

Link plopped the snail back in the water, watching as its soft green glow illuminated its descent until it hit the silt bottom of the river in a silent plume of dust, momentarily hiding his bare feet from his sight. 

“If they wanted to be sneaky, they shouldn’t be so glowy,” he said in all seriousness, his wet hands on his hips as he turned his gaze to his father who erupted into laughter. 

“Is that so?” he laughed as he stood and held out a hand to pull Link from the water, “We should be on our way. We need to find shelter before nightfall. I don’t like being caged in like this” he motioned with a hand to the high walls of the cliff that surrounded them. 

Link settled back on their mount with a disappointed sigh. He had grown quite tired of simply sitting all day. He spent so much time sitting upon a horse he could almost feel himself growing physically attached to it.  _ I’m going to turn into a horse boy,  _ he thought,  _ like a little centaur.  _ He imagined himself storming into the castle with his muscular equine legs, a spear raised high as he harpooned that awful crown off the king’s head, smirking as he pictured the horrified look upon his face. He wondered if Zelda would laugh or if she would be frightened at his new form. His smile faded at that. He didn’t want to scare her. 

“Why don’t you read to me while we ride?” Lennon suggested, noticing Link’s restlessness, “I’m bored too”

Link agreed and pulled a book from his satchel, balancing it across his legs. 

“There once was a lion that lay sleeping in the forest,” he began in the characteristically choppy way young children often read aloud, “A timid little mouse came upon him un...unex…” he paused to squeeze his brows together in concentration, slicing the large word into more manageable pieces, “unexpect...edly. Unexpectedly” he finished, a triumphant tone in his voice at his small achievement.

“Very good!” Lennon laughed, watching over Link’s shoulder as he ran his small finger across the line of words on the page.

“The lion was angry that the mouse had...he had...uh…”

“Roused,” Lennon offered.

“The lion was angry that the mouse had roused him from his sleep. What does that mean?” Link asked, turning in the saddle to look at his father’s face, shrinking back with a bashful smile when he noticed his father had been watching him so closely.

“It’s just a fancy way to say he was woken up. You roused me this morning when you dropped that pot near my head”

“I said sorry,” Link murmured, turning back to his book, “I was just hungry” 

“It’s alright,” Lennon chuckled, “Keep reading”  
  
“The lion lifted the mouse to his jaws to eat him but the mouse...begged him to spay...spare his life. The mouse told the lion he would one day rep...repay him. The lion was...he was uh..” 

Lennon peaked over his shoulder again, “Amused” he provided. 

“The lion was amused that the little mouse thought he could ever help a strong cree...creature like him. But he was feeling gen...gener...generous and let the mouse go” he paused to look at the illustration, running his finger along the long lines of the lion. 

“What a lucky mouse,” Lennon added before cocking his head to the side, chasing a slight noise that had caught his attention. 

“Some days later, the lion was st...stalking the forest for prey when he was...caught in a hunter’s net in a tree. The mouse heard his cries and sc...he sc-...what’s that word?” Link questioned.

Lennon kept his eyes on the road a moment before quickly scanning the page. 

“Scurried,” he added before narrowing his eyes again. He could have sworn he heard something up the road. But Link continued, seemingly unconcerned with his father’s sudden change in demeanor. 

“He scurried to where the lion hung help...helpless in the tree. The mouse chewed thr...throw, no... through, that’s an awful word. Why is it written like that?” he hesitated for a moment, briefly contemplating who decided how words were spelled before continuing, “he chewed through the rope and freed the lion. ‘Now you see, even a mouse can help a lion,’ the mouse said to him. The End” 

He was quiet for a moment as he considered the small mouse freeing the lion from the tree. He wondered if the mouse truly meant to keep true to his word or if he’d just been a quick thinker and a good liar. His mother had once told him that a bright light emitted from his eyes when he told a lie, resulting in him closing them before he attempted one. It wasn’t until he asked her why a light didn’t come from hers when she pretended a meal he had cooked was anything but dubious to admit she had been tricking him. He wondered if a light would have shone from the mouse's eyes. 

“A kindness is never wasted,” his father said, bringing him back to the present. 

“What?”

“That’s the moral of that fable. Kindness is never wasted,” he clarified before shoving Link down hard in the saddle, “get down!” 

Link grunted as his face made contact with the hard leather before he found himself falling backwards. Their horse threw them hard onto the stone walkway as a group of bokoblins snorted their way around the corner they had sprung from, already reloading their arrows. 

Lennon coughed as he tried to force air back into his faltering lungs. He sat up in a daze as another arrow flew by him and landed near where Link lay on his stomach, unmoving on the ground. The sight of it sent adrenaline crashing through him like a warehouse of explosives. He scuttled clumsily to his feet and rushed to his side, flipping him over after sending a look over his shoulder. The bokoblins were gaining ground quickly. 

Link sputtered to life and Lennon let out a pained breath of relief as the familiar shine of blue widened in realization of what just occurred. 

“Link, you need to run. Run back toward where we came. I’ll find you. But if I don’t, just keep going. Go back to Hateno, go back home. I’ll catch up,” he spoke quickly, scrambling to pull his sword from its sheath. 

“No! I’m not leaving you!” Link cried as he pulled on his father’s sleeve. 

Lennon turned and shot him a look so dark that Link felt himself nearly melting into the ground. Link had only ever heard of bokoblins. They were a lot rounder than he had anticipated. Less sharp. This creature looked more like a child’s drawing of a pig gone wrong than a monster of malice. He watched the creature running towards them stop as it held a crooked horn to his mouth, filling up its lungs and releasing all their force into the instrument.

“Shit!” his father cursed before picking Link up by the arm and shoving him in the direction he wanted him to run, “Go! Now!’

“No!” Link protested, pulling from his father’s grip to stand firm in front of him. 

“Do not argue with me, son! You will do as you’re told!” 

It was the voice Link had never heard directed at him. The one he had only ever used on his men. Link had heard other children complaining about the harshness of their fathers. How they raised their voice when they returned home dirtied and bruised or left a mess in their gardens. But as little as Link had known his father before, he’d never been anything but kind and gentle with him. He felt small under the weight of that voice now. He tried to stifle the cry in his throat as he turned his back and started his escape. 

But he didn’t listen as he was supposed to. He stopped after only a few short steps to turn and watch as his father flew through the air, sword in hand as another bokoblin fell to his blade. There was a reason Lennon had been given his title as Captain. Before Link came along and challenged him, he was the most skilled swordsman in the castle. But no man had ever been unlucky enough to be faced with an entire camp of bokoblins. At most they would find two to three bumbling around and even those were faced as a unified front from the soldiers. Now it seemed every hit Lennon laid on one beast enraged another. He spun and parried and dashed until his limbs burned and his own sweat threatened to blind him. It was when he dared take a moment to brush his perspiration from his eyes that one of the foul monsters took a chance and slashed hard at his back. He felt the blade rip his flesh and a howl of pain flew from his lips followed just as quickly by a scream of fear from down the road where Link was supposed to be fleeing.

“ _ No!”  _ Link’s voice ripped through the chaos, causing some of the bokoblins to turn to glare at him instead.

With their beady eyes focused on him, Link felt something within himself fall into place. He heard his father’s voice in his head.  _ You are strong. You are brave. You are Hylia’s hero, no one else.  _ He met their gaze with a fierceness of his own, eyeing one of the fallen monster’s weapons on the ground before lunging forward and grabbing it. He bashed through two monsters before coming to a stop behind his father.

Everything in Lennon told him to be angry that he had disobeyed, that he had  deliberately  put himself in danger. But the boy he saw before him now was no helpless child. He was quick. He was determined. And Gods, was he  _ strong.  _ The force with which the bokoblins hit the ground had the earth spitting them back up, bouncing them hard before they rolled away in agony. Lennon was astonished. He had been quietly amazed for months now at the ferocity residing within his son. But now he realized he had only been seeing a small fraction of what he was capable of. The two fought back to back until finally the last of them met their demise, leaving Lennon breathless and in pain and Link untouched by the monsters, only sporting his injuries from the fall. When he was sure there were no more monsters lurking in the shadows of dusk that had blanketed the valley, Lennon let himself fall to the ground, rolling to his stomach to take pressure off the wound on his back. 

“Get UP!” Link boomed when he saw the pitiful sight of his father bloodied and crumpled on the ground like some discarded wrapping from an old wound. 

Lennon groaned and turned so he could see him. Fat tears were cleaning streaks through the dust that clung to the perspiration on his cheeks all despite the angry scowl that clung to his features. His lip was thoroughly busted from his tumble off their horse, slowly swelling to one side, painting his teeth a soft crimson with his own blood. Lennon couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his son without some type of injury to his face. Perhaps when he was smaller, when his body hadn’t quite caught up to his ambitions yet. 

“Get up!” he yelled again, angrily wiping the tears from his face, dropping the ugly bokoblin weapon unceremoniously to the ground, “you’re not allowed to leave me!” 

Despite the pain that was radiating through his body he had to smile at the way Link balled his small fists at his sides, how he still sniffled like any little boy trying to hide his upset with anger. He agonizingly pushed himself to a sitting position and saw Link visibly slacken, having feared he’d never get off the ground again. 

“Well,” Lennon croaked, “at least the horse had the decency to throw at least a few of our bags. Why don’t you go get them? I need to do something about this,” he motioned to his back as Link stood before him, nodding through the tears that were still steadily flowing from his eyes. He looked his father’s form over for a moment before deciding it was safe to walk the short distance away to retrieve their things. As soon as his back turned, Lennon allowed himself to grimace and feel the pain coursing through his body. He could feel his energy depleting as hot blood soaked through his tunic. He knew he didn’t have long before he lost consciousness, but he couldn’t leave Link here alone, not surrounded as they were in filth and the aftermath of the fight. They were completely exposed here. He leaned forward and fell back into the dust, spitting dirt from his mouth. 

“Dad?” Link’s voice quivered and Lennon’s heart fell at the fear in it. He refused to be another nightmare that kept his son up at night. Gritting his teeth, he rose again and took a deep steadying breath before opening his eyes. Link stood with one of their smaller bags in his hands, a tremor in his bottom lip. 

“I’m alright, but we have to stop the bleeding. See if you can find the strips of cloth and a small brown vial with some brown liquid in it”

Link did as he was told and rushed to his father’s side with the supplies. Lennon held his breath as he painstakingly undid every buckle and button on his tunic, carefully peeling the soiled garment from his raw skin. Link paled at the gash on his father’s back. It ripped across his skin from his shoulder nearly down to his waist. Lennon reached behind him and stifled a gasp as he gently traced his fingers along it, relieved it wasn’t as deep as he had previously thought. 

“Just...pour the liquid to clean it for now and help me wrap it” 

Link nodded eagerly and emptied the small vial onto his father's back. Lennon bit back a growl of pain as it scorched through the tender skin. He then began the process of wrapping the wound, handing the cloth off to Link when the flex in his shoulder proved too painful. At last, Lennon took the two loose ends and tied it off at chest level. After downing almost a whole skin of water, he took in a deep breath and stood shakily. He could feel himself waning. 

“Just up the road, there is an old stairwell to the upper levels. If we can get there, we can camp underneath. It’s not ideal, but it will have to do. Do you think you can carry our things?”

Link nodded again and gathered up what was left of their bags. The horse had taken off with most of their clothing and their bedrolls, but their small bag of rations and other supplies had been thrown when they were. He strapped these to his back and followed Lennon’s shaky footsteps until they reached the small space his father had described. Lennon crawled inside, propping himself up against the stone and closed his eyes, opening them when he heard the soft sounds of Link’s crying once again. Link sat with his knees to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around them. This was what life would be now, a constant back and forth between happiness and pain and fear. He only hoped he could find them enough happiness to keep them afloat. 

“Hey,” Lennon managed to rasp. Link looked up at the sound of his voice and Lennon motioned for him to sit beside him. After a short shuffle, Link was nestled in his side. 

“You were very brave today. You saved my life. I’ve killed many bokoblins in my day, but I’ve never faced that many alone. I’ve never seen that many together…” he trailed off, thinking back to Rhoam’s cryptic warnings of the signs of calamity. It was the last thing he wanted to think of at that moment. 

“I’m just going to rest a bit, okay? Our bodies have a miraculous way of keeping us going, we only have to give them the chance to work. Then we can...we can head for the Domain and you can...see your...friends,” he felt himself fading, the world slowing and melting as sleep pulled him under. The last thing he felt was Link burying his face into the side, the warmth of his tears almost soothing in the cooling spring air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got a little distracted because I got the game again and spent some time wandering around. It should be mostly true to game now, if my memory serves me right. 
> 
> I'm excited about the next chapter. It's completely Link's POV, which I haven't done in a while. I've missed his little internal dialogues. I hope you enjoyed Link reading a good old Aesop's Fable. I stumbled across one in my lesson planning for work and thought of little Link reading them. I thought it was fitting. (:


	33. Alone

Up and down. Up and down. The rhythm of his father’s chest was solid. When Link rested his hand there, which he’d done for the 10th time that hour, he could feel it. It was steady, like soft waves lapping upon a shoreline. There was no raspy coughing. There was no blood on his face; just the soft rise and fall of the dark fabric over his body. He could feel his heart there too, somewhere deep beneath the bone and the tissue keeping it safe from the outside word. His heart was still there. The blood coming from his back hadn’t stopped that from working. He could feel the rhythmic pulsing of it if he pushed his hand down hard enough, though he tried not to do that. He needed to be gentle. His father was not dead. Just injured. He repeated that to himself more than he realized. He was not dead. His eyes were closed, not open and unseeing like his mother’s had been. He tried not to see her face on his body, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself. He thought his brain was not very obedient; always thinking things without his permission. 

His father slept all night and then he slept all morning too. Link, on the other hand, did not sleep. He wanted to. More than once he felt the pull of it dragging his lids down to meet the other, but he told them to stop. He had a job to do. He had to keep watch. Those were the rules. One man stayed on watch so the other could rest. It's just that his father had needed lots more rest recently than usual. But it was okay. He had slept for a long time too, back at the castle. His father had saved him then. He could keep his father safe now. He was also too busy to sleep. He had to keep checking. Keep watching for it. The up and down. It was still there, he just feared it might not be if he stopped checking. So he kept doing it. It kept him focused. Kept him awake. It was a good thing to do. It was helpful. He didn’t know how else he could be helpful at that moment. 

At some point his father had slid to the ground and rolled onto his back. Link wasn’t sure if it was okay that he was laying that way. He thought maybe it was okay because the ground would help keep all the blood in. He knew that blood was what kept people warm and alive. He didn't want too much of his father’s blood to leave his body, lest he get cold. But then again, maybe his blood was secretly escaping and the thirsty ground was soaking it all up without his knowledge. He hated the way it smelled. Like old metal. He imagined the worms beneath them coated in the sticky substance, writhing and wriggling in the dark pools. He shivered.  _ I should check, _ he thought to himself,  _ just to be sure.  _ So he tried to be as cautious as he could and rolled his father up slightly. There was blood on the back of his shirt and some on the ground, but he decided there was probably still enough in his body for now. It made him feel better at the same time it made him feel worse and he didn’t know why. 

There was a wave rolling around in his stomach, sometimes overflowing into the back of his throat. It tasted ugly, like sour apples riddled with insects that had left behind their own putrid flavor. Or dirt muddied with the filth of animals. Or the “soups” he’d made as a smaller boy, throwing whatever objects he could into the pot just to watch the way they boiled. He held his hands to his stomach like he may produce some type of magic and heal the upset that had nestled inside of him.  _ Mipha could help,  _ he told himself,  _ but Mipha is not here and I am not magic.  _ Link decided that even if he was magic, he would heal his father and not himself if given the chance. He could handle being a little queasy if it meant his father would improve. Besides, a nasty cut on the back was far worse than whatever hideous business his stomach was getting up to. 

He held a hand over his mouth as he let out a yawn that stretched his jaw all the way open and had him rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. It was afternoon now and no travelers had been by all day, none at least that he could see from their little cubby under the stairwell. It was only old stone, the occasional bird song, and the distant splashes of life in the small lake just ahead of them that kept him alert. There had been nothing to protect them from. Not even a stinging insect to squish. It disappointed him, even if no one was there to see it. 

Daytime felt safer to him than the nighttime had. He’d laid beside his father and watched the shadows, convincing himself he really was brave and not frightened by every movement he saw in the dark corners of the space he was hidden in. He thought it was really the monsters that should be frightened. They didn’t even know he was Hylia’s hero and not some scared little boy, though he very much felt more like the latter as he held his arms close and closed his eyes, trying not to picture what was causing the deep echoes to travel through the canyon.

Now there were no shadows other than the long silhouettes of the clouds lazily trailing across the ground.  _ I’ll just rest for a minute,  _ he told himself,  _ then I’ll open my eyes back up.  _ He checked once for the up and down of his father’s chest. Then he checked again, just to be sure. Then he felt his eyes flutter closed and his mouth slowly gape open as he drifted off to sleep, his head joining his father’s chest in the up and down. 

_ Her eyes were wrong again. These were a haunted shade of blue, like the lips of drowned corpses. She was yelling for him but there was no sound. She only pointed and pointed up, up, up. He lifted his head but it was as if his skull was filled with all the water in the sea and all the heaviness that carried. When his eyes finally caught the sky, it was crimson and angry. Boiling. Emerging from the red sea was a cackling moon that had a face like a wicked court jester, grinning at the thought of all the destruction it would bring. The teeth sticking from its crooked mouth made his stomach churn. He thought it would eat him whole.  _

_ “Link!”  _

_ A voice called from the mist around him. He spun around and the wisps of red at his feet tangled around his limbs. They were holding him. They were becoming him. He was forgetting who he was. He was only a boy in the void. He was drowning.  _

_ “Link! Help me!”  _

_ It was Mama. But it was not. It was Zelda. But it couldn’t be. He didn’t remember her voice. Then there was a voice he didn't recognize at all. Had he heard it before? He held his ears and screamed into the anathema as it closed in around him.  _

_ “You will stop!” he screamed, “you will not win!”  _

_ He didn’t know where the words came from. But they are powerful. His voice was not his voice and now his arms and legs were free. There was a sword in his hands. It glowed like a healthy moon, not the diseased sphere that bore down on him now. He swung it once with a mighty yell and the moon was slivered in half. When it shattered, he felt himself shatter too.  _

Link woke with a shuttering gasp. It was still daylight. He couldn’t have slept long. He looked down at where he had been holding onto his father’s tunic. The fabric was twisted and wrinkled and tangled into his fingers. He slowly let go and flexed the sore muscles from where they’d been overused. He was so tired of being afraid of things he didn’t understand. 

A rumble in his stomach reminded him that he was awake and very hungry. He crawled over to their belongings and pulled a small ball of rice wrapped in leaves and slowly nibbled on it. He thought it looked cozy in its little woven bed. He wondered if there was a leaf big enough to wrap around himself. Before long the rice was gone and he didn’t remember taking the last bite. He looked at his father and wondered how empty his stomach was. Do you think about being hungry when you’re sleeping? Is that why you wake up hungry? Is that why he used to dream about unending supplies of sweets instead of red mists and monsters and Princesses that looked just wrong enough to make him feel out of place? 

“Dad?” he asked, though of course he didn’t respond. 

He tried to gently stir him awake, but he only coughed and resettled back into his sleep. 

Link bit his bottom lip and looked around the same space that had been occupying his vision for nearly a whole day now. Strands of ivy clung to the short stone wall his father had all but tumbled down when he chose this spot to rest. Some of the broken leaves had drifted away in the wind, landing without sound in the gap between the landing where they camped and the water down below. He could hear the churning of a waterfall up ahead, smell it in the air. He turned to his father’s form and balled up his fists, hitting them against his thighs as he paced, his anxiety failing to find somewhere else to go.

“Is it okay if I go and see?” he asked the air and the occasional bird that landed to pick fallen seeds out of the cracks in the old road. 

“I won’t go very far, I promise”

His voice drifted away in the breeze and it was just him and his thoughts again.  _ What if he doesn’t wake up.  _ He hit his leg extra hard for that thought and it made him think of Impa. He always wondered how she learned to hit people just hard enough to be bothersome, but never quite enough to cause real injury. It was a rare talent he did not wish to learn how she acquired. 

For quite possibly the first time in his short life, Link found there was no adult to answer to. Even when he freely roamed Hateno, his actions would always find their way back to his mother’s ear. He had always pondered on how she managed to know what he was up to. He didn’t know if she somehow conferred with the forest creatures, secretly tailed him all day, or simply had a skill for making him tell on himself, but she would always know when he’d fallen and injured himself or made a bit of mischief and she was always there to help him clean up afterwards. But now there was no one. Only his father. And his father was, unfortunately, still sleeping. Link decided to give himself permission to climb out of their hiding space. He thought that was a thing he could do now. Make his own choices. 

He crawled over the ledge and peeked his head around the corner. There was nothing. No monsters. No people. No people pretending to be monsters or monsters pretending to be people. So he walked forward until he found himself in a more open space, with a decently sized body of water to his left that served as the base of a large waterfall. He stood and took a deep breath, feeling the moisture laden air filling his lungs. It reminded him of Mipha and Bazz and Rivan at the same time it reminded him of falling and drowning and the woman in light and then his mother’s arms around him and how warm her skin had been when he was so cold. He smiled and then felt it fall as that familiar ache took over him again. He missed her. He sat on the edge and let his feet dangle in the water, covering his eyes with his hands. He hoped the cold water would suck all the tears from his eyes. He hoped the fish would swim in the new water and be happy and maybe he could be happy too. 

A splash off in the not so far distance made him sniffle and wipe the sneaky wetness that had glazed on his cheeks away with the swipe of his hand. He narrowed his eyes and focused in that way that wrinkled his forehead and made him look a little angry. There was a space in the water that seemed to be churning all on its own, swimming in circles. He picked up a loose stone and threw it into the water without thinking and suddenly the churning changed positions and started to swim straight for him. He stood hastily as it grew near, scrambling to get to his feet as a large shape exploded from the water. 

It was a lizard, but not like the kinds he’d held in his hands. This one was much larger, like the size of a man. It even had armor on its back like a soldier and a long sharp weapon in its hand that it pointed at Link with a squawk that sounded both comical and dangerous all at once. Link’s first instinct was to run away. He was little and the sun was darkening and he was all alone with no one to tell him what to do. His heart started pounding away in his chest and he felt his muscles tense as the creature sent another swipe his direction. Link jumped out of the way and rolled, eliciting another squawk from the creature. Link cocked his head and watched its jerky movements as it hopped back and forth before him. He couldn’t tell if it was moving strategically or just striking at him randomly, but he was able to quickly dodge each attack all the same. 

Then the creature let out a particularly ugly scream and leaned back, seemingly putting all of its weight into its next strike, having lost patience for the little Hylian jump roping over his stab attacks. Link let out a slow breath and his eyes zeroed in on its movements. He felt the earth slow around him, though his brain and his body were still under his control. He felt like a rock being thrown in the air right at the moment it seemed to freeze and not move at all before plummeting back down. All at once, he found the creature's weapon was in his hand and before the earth managed to catch up with him, it was lodged into the chest of the lizard man, which sputtered and screamed and writhed until it fell into the water and sank. Link stood over the edge for a while but it did not come up. He couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. All at once he was overcome with a rushing desire to tell someone before remembering there was no one to tell. It deflated him and made him feel tired. 

He looked up at the moon and scowled despite knowing it wasn’t the one from his dream. He imagined the nasty lizard slithering from its depths, dripping in red ichor and snarling as it was birthed onto the ground.  _ Maybe that’s where all the monsters come from,  _ he thought,  _ they jump out of the moon each night _ . The thought both amused him and frightened him as he scurried back to his hiding place, feeling the phantom eyes of a thousand new monsters on his back. 

Lennon was still in his restorative slumber, though he had changed position during Link’s absence. Now he lay on his side, his wound free to breath in the night air. His tunic was stiff and darkened with blood, but no more than it had been when Link had previously checked. Link settled beside him, rustling through their bags until he found some flint. After a quick trip back over the wall to scavenge an old branch that had fallen from a tree on the cliff side, he squatted on his heels and nursed a small fire to life. Just like his mother had taught him.

He sat with his head slouched over his father’s side, resting on his hip. The smoke from the small fire billowed up into the slanted stone ceiling, caressing the rough stone on its slow descent to the sky. Link thought of monsters and swords, seeing their shapes in the shadows. He felt that empty weight in his hand again. A cold spot on his back where he felt something should be but it wasn’t. 

“Dad, please wake up,” he said to the smoke, exhausted by his own confusing thoughts. He was always used to there being someone to converse with him. To tell him he was silly in his musings or to correct his errors. Someone to tell him more stories and set his brain back on track. Now he felt a little jumbled, like a dropped basket of fruit. 

He watched as a lithe arm of fire curled around the hunk of wood as the bark crackled and smoldered. 

“It’s cold,” he complained, poking a long stick in the embers to watch the way they danced away from him. He thought a fire would help, but it only made him feel colder, like it was stealing away his warmth instead of sharing its own.

With an almost inaudible gasp, he remembered the plant that Ethel had given him.  _ It has the magic of the Gerudo desert _ , she had said. He silently prayed it was still stuffed into one of their remaining bags, smiling when he found it crumpled next to a pair of his pants. He spent the next hour carefully collecting water from the small stream before him, making sure not to fall in, and rekindling the fire so that it burned hot enough to bring it to a boil. He was too impatient to wait for the big rolling bubbles, so he poured the liquid over the plant sitting at the bottom of his cup and let the heat cover his face with a contented sigh. 

His disappointment was measurable by the grimace that overtook him when he finally tasted it. It was bitter, like biting the skin of lemon or crunching on dandelion greens. He half expected it to shimmer or at least have a touch of sweetness, or anything to give the appearance of the magic that was promised. But before he could fall too deeply into his disappointment, he felt it inside him. A heat rising like a sunset, first in his stomach, then flowering into a blanket of warmness that wrapped around him like one of his mother’s quilts. 

“Dad,” he said with a deep intake of breath, “it really is desert magic” he said on his exhale, turning with a grin to his father who still lay motionless on the ground. 

He let his face fall to a neutral expression as he sat his chin on his father's shoulder. Up and down. Up and down. His father was still alive and now he had magic to keep him warm. He decided to ask his father to visit the desert next, after he saw Mipha. He wanted to find all the magic in all of Hyrule. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my Link may have a touch of ADHD or I'm projecting lol. 
> 
> Also, going back to work after 5 months off is killing me, especially with all the uncertainty. If you know a teacher, send them some good vibes as school rolls back around. We all need it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I finished editing it on my lunch break because I realized it had been over a week. Let me know what you think!


	34. Innocence

_ “A baker”  _

_ “A baker?” he laughed in reply, “Of all things, a baker?!”  _

_ They were lying side by side, the child who had been a whirlwind all day finally settled between them. He was smiling off and on in his sleep, a jolt of energy occasionally jerking one of his limbs into a swift movement before it settled back down. Even in sleep he was busy.  _

_ “Why not?” she giggled, trying and failing to pretend he had insulted her by questioning her suggestion, “he loves to measure things”  _

_ “He loves anything that results in something he can eat!” he chuckled before she shushed him, quieting her own laughter with a hand over her mouth.  _

_ “You’re going to wake him up!”  _

_ “Now you’re going to wake him up!”  _

_ In his sleep he whimpered and she was immediately upon him, pulling him into her, brushing her fingers through his hair in such a way that he came undone beneath her, his head rolling limp into the bed beside her. He looked on in amazement. It was like she knew his every intricacy. Like they were one being.  _

_ “You’re amazing,” he whispered.  _

_ “I’m a mother,” she corrected him, reaching across to work her magic on him too.  _

When Lennon woke, he wasn’t sure where he was. Had he slipped away in his sleep? Was this the spirit realm? He could almost still feel the hint of her touch on his skin. Would she be waiting for him there? Or was it here? Almost as if in reply, he felt something shift on top of him. It took his eyes a moment to blink away the film of sleep that had congealed there, but when his vision finally cleared, he saw the unmistakable bramble that was Link’s hair right in front of his face. Somehow he had managed to lay almost completely on top of him, his arms hanging loose at his sides. He groaned as he tried to shift beneath him, turning his head to take in his surroundings. 

The hazy morning sun cast everything in a faint glow.  _ Morning,  _ he thought to himself,  _ at least I didn’t sleep long.  _ He noticed the remains of a small campfire, a wooden cup tumbled on its side, and their bags haphazardly spilled open on the ground. He wondered why Link hadn’t just rested with him instead of messing around with making a camp. He put a hand on his back and absently gave him a pat. Link bolted upright and scrambled to his feet at the contact, his eyes darting around wildly before falling on his father awake on the ground. 

“DAD!” he cried out before falling back down, pushing what air remained in Lennon’s lungs out with the force of his hug. He immediately watered his father’s shoulder with tears and all Lennon could do was hold him there while he got out whatever it was he was releasing. Perhaps the fight had scared him. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen a monster up close before. Maybe he’d had a particularly unpleasant nightmare. Whatever it was, it had Link completely unraveled. 

Lennon used the one arm that wasn’t holding Link to push himself upwards to a sitting position, pulling at the swollen and ripped tissue across his back. He hissed at the discomfort and Link released him, eyeing him with a particularly worried expression. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Lennon said, trying to reassure him, “What happened? Why are you so upset?”

“You woke up,” Link sniffled.

“Well, it is morning,” he tried to joke, but his voice quickly fell into a raspy cough. His mouth felt like he’d taken in a handful of dirt and there was a dull ache in his stomach. He watched as Link’s face fell into one of confusion before reassessing their camp again. Then it dawned on him. 

“Which morning is it, exactly?” he asked slowly, turning his eyes back to Link.

“You didn’t get up yesterday. Yesterday you slept the whole day. But this morning you did get up. I didn’t think...I thought...” he explained the best he could. 

Lennon did a quick calculation of how long Link had been left to watch and wait while he lay unconscious. Two full nights. No wonder he had acted as if he’d risen from the dead. He basically had. He felt a rush of sympathy overcome him and he pulled Link back towards him to hug him properly. 

“Shit. I’m sorry, son” 

“Mmm, s’okay,” he mumbled in reply, before wiggling out of his grasp to sit back on his knees. 

“There were no people. I think maybe, there are too many monsters for there to be people. I stayed here with you. To watch, you know. That was my job, to watch,” Link started, Lennon lightly smiling at the serious expression on his face. 

“I heard a waterfall up ahead and I wanted to see. So I climbed out. But then I found a big lizard instead. He came right out of the water,” he continued, using his arms to help narrate the story with their motions. 

“A big lizard?” Lennon questioned. 

“Yeah, a really big one. It was wearing clothes. And it had a spear. It tried to spear me, but I was too fast” 

“A spear...a lizalfos? Link!” Lennon gasped before bolting forward, checking him all over for injury, cringing at the twinges of pain it sent to his own body, “are you okay? Holy shit. Those things are nasty. Did you get away? Of course you did, you're here. But where is it?” he started to look around frantically as if it may still be lurking in the shadows. 

“I’m okay. It didn’t get me. I jumped over its spear and then I went really kind of slow before I went super fast like this,” he said, trying to mimic his own movements, slowly at first before pretending to throw the imaginary spear with great speed. All Lennon could do was look on perplexed. 

“I got it right here,” Link went on, pointing to his own chest, “and it fell into the water. It didn’t get up”  
  
Lennon looked on blankly, unable to comprehend the battle Link had just described to him. Bokoblins were nasty, but Lizalfos were just as hated, if not more so, among the soldiers. They were ruthless and moved quicker, unlike their sloppy counterparts. He couldn’t imagine anything other than Link on the wrong end of that spear. The intensity of his expression at the thought made Link squirm as he started to look everywhere that wasn’t his father. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” Lennon sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“What?”  
  
Lennon huffed out a breath and tilted his head down just enough to glance a sliver of blue from his son’s down-turned eyes. 

“When Otto’s son was your age, he got his head stuck in a weapon’s rack and we had to rub butter on his neck to free him” 

He watched a small smile creep across Link’s face. 

“But you...you’re incredible. You’re like travelling with an entire unit of soldiers packed inside one body. One tiny body. You’re still on the short side,” he joked as he ruffled his hair, pulling an eye roll from Link before continuing, “I never doubted your mother, but it’s hard not to see it now”

“See what?”

Lennon looked at him fondly a moment, his face softening as he took him in. The dirty hair. The seemingly always swollen lip. Always a bruise poking from somewhere under his clothes. He was Ellia’s twin, but he could see himself there too, in the way he creased his forehead when he concentrated or rubbed his neck when he was nervous. Both of which he displayed as Lennon stared at him. He chose not to answer as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. Just that motion had his head swimming. He could feel a fresh tickle of blood trailing down his back from reopening a spot on his wound. 

“I really need to get this stitched up. If memory serves me right, I believe Kakariko should be up ahead. It’s not the smartest place to stop, but this is going to get worse if I ignore it,” Lennon said, grunting as he pulled himself over the small half wall, taking a moment to lay on his stomach and stare at the dirt as Link stood over him. 

“Well. Let’s go then,” he said matter-of-factly, offering his small hand to help his father up.

“Let’s go then,” Lennon mimicked with a grin as the two set off on the next leg of their journey, one disaster already under their belts. 

They walked in comfortable silence as the old road shifted to a grass path shaded with the occasional tree. Link walked slightly ahead, no doubt surveying for any danger. Gone was the distant daydreaming he’d previous been engaging in. He was razor focused, eyes shifting to every movement, occasionally looking behind him to check and make sure Lennon hadn’t fallen behind. He was seemingly taking his job very seriously. It didn’t sit right with Lennon to let him take the lead in that way, but he had more than proven he was able to handle whatever was thrown at them. He just prayed they didn’t run into a hinox or a stray lynel. Strong as he was, Link was still only eight. One well placed strike from one of those beasts would likely shatter his rib cage, even with Link’s experience fighting lynels. Lennon chastised himself for that thought as the road ahead grew darker and more shaded as if they were entering a small forest. 

Sensing his father’s discomfort Link slowed to keep his pace. 

“Mama stitched me all the time,” he offered, craning his neck to watch the road they had  just left behind. 

“Oh yeah?” 

Link stopped to stand in front of his father, the top of his face in shadow from the new abundance of trees that surrounded them. He lifted the fringe from his forehead and revealed a shallow scar from the top of his head to his right temple. Lennon wondered how he had never noticed it before. 

“I was trying to catch a bird” 

Lennon smiled and closed his eyes, picturing Link with an arm outstretched. He tried to  imagine if Ellia had screamed when he’d no doubt ran to her with a trail of blood down his face or if she’d put her hands on her hips and cocked a brow at him. 

“I cried a lot,” Link kept going, remembering it himself in perfect clarity. She  _ had _ screamed. Because of its placement, it had bled a generous amount, betraying how non-threatening it really was. That was what had made him cry, not the pain in his head that was almost forgettable when he saw the way her face seemed to shrivel and the tears fell from her eyes. 

Lennon grew somber at his admission. What had  _ he  _ been doing at that moment in his family’s history? Paperwork? Adjusting the aim of a young recruit? How could anything have been more important than consoling his injured son and convincing his wife he’d be alright? He briefly pondered just how many of those moments they had weathered without him. The amount of distance that spanned their relationship. He’d always been just out of reach, probably out of mind too. In Link’s younger years he’d been nothing more than a storybook character that occasionally came to life, bringing with him presents and stories of fighting monsters or appeasing a king. All the same, Link had loved him as if he’d been there for every scratch and every tear, always running into his arms and assaulting him with hugs and kisses and promises that he’d been good in his absence though Lennon knew all the mischief he’d been up to thanks to letters from his mother. He didn’t know what he’d done to earn that love. To earn his role as father to such a remarkable child. The Goddess’ chosen. The  _ Hero of Hyrule.  _ When he looked upon the child standing before him, a soft expression across his face, he still saw the infant that once grasped his fingers and fell asleep each time it rained. Would he be able to let him go when the time came? To let him find his destiny? 

“Dad!” Link’s voice rang across the space between them. 

Lennon snapped back into attention, his eyes widening when he saw what was before him. They were in a small clearing with a giant blossom slumbering in the middle. The canopy of trees above painted everything in shadow and the air around them felt charged like the thickness before a storm, though the skies were clear. Link stood with his hands outstretched, a small ball of pink light swirling lazily around him as a smile slowly took over his face. 

“Those are...it’s...a  _ fairy,”  _ Lennon managed to sputter in disbelief as he watched the once mythical creature as it danced around his son, occasionally landing in his hair, eliciting a soft giggle from him.

“Dad what is this place?” Link asked, his face full of wonder as he looked around, occasionally smiling as the little fairy spun in circles around him. 

Lennon had read about similar places though he’d never seen one himself. Giant fairies that lived in underground caverns around Hyrule marked by grossly over-sized flowering pods. No one had actually seen the inhabitants for thousands of years so there was no way to know if the stories were true or simply folktale. They were once said to have aided the hero of old by healing his most grievous wounds and offering him safe haven from the dangers of the wild. He then remembered the smaller fairies that were said to flock around their larger counterparts, almost as if they fed off their energy. Link stared at him wide eyed as he tried his best to retell the story for him, soaking up every detail. 

“It’s said they will never let a Hylian touch them, but only hover so tantalizingly close that their magic makes the hair on your arms stand on end. It’s said that they…” Lennon’s voice trailed off as Link held out both his hands. His next words died in his throat as the small creature landed in his cupped palms. 

Link gasped and the edges of his wild hair curled in an invisible updraft. His blue eyes were tinted pink in the glow of the fairy as he brought it to his face. Lennon stood rooted in the spot, frozen in the impossibility of the scene playing out before him. Link and the fairy seemed to share a quiet moment before it lifted from his palms and hovered to where he stood. It spun a lazy circle around him before its speed increased. He tried to follow its movements with his eyes before it became too dizzying and he opted to close them instead as a tingling started up in his back. His eyes shot open as he felt the sharp pain that had been sending shockwaves down his extremities fade into a dull ache before ceasing all together. A warmth began to envelope him as if he were standing in front of a bonfire and he felt a shuddering gasp leave his lips. It was all together so comforting and so baffling a sensation that he found himself falling to his knees as it became too much for him to bear. 

Link rushed to him and wrapped his arms around his neck, breathing his hot air onto Lennon's skin. Link pulled back when the fairy hovered just before him, twirling a moment before bopping him almost affectionately on the nose. This left a grin on Link’s face as he whispered, “thank you,” watching it intently as it spun and spun until it seemed to dissolve altogether into the charged air. 

Lennon could only stare open mouthed, completely unable to formulate any word as he tried to process what just happened. He stretched his arms and felt no pain. The fatigue that had once had his eyelids feeling like boulders upon his face was no more. He felt like a new man.

“It asked me a question,” Link said, watching as his father’s eyes locked on his own. Lennon could only nod. 

“It wanted to heal this,” he pointed to his swollen lip, "it said it needed to help me but I said it should help you instead. It wanted to argue but I won” 

Lennon, suddenly overwhelmed with love for the selfless boy standing in front of him, cradled his small cheeks in his rough hands and peppered his forehead with kisses. 

He tried not to imagine the ancient magic that had just closed his wounds, nor the ancient soul inside his son that had drawn it to do so. He took a deep breath and the scent of cinnamon and pumpkin filled his nostrils. Kakariko. They had made it. He opened his eyes and found Link’s dirty face still grinning at him. 

“You’re going to save us all,” Lennon said, punctuating that thought with another kiss before standing and taking his son’s hand in his own, “Let’s go see what trouble you can make in Kakariko.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. Work has turned me upside down. This chapter is brought to you by a thunderstorm and if I'm honest a little bit of vodka and orange juice lol 
> 
> I wanted it to be longer, but hopefully the image of a fairy booping little Link on the nose holds you over until my life isn't so crazy and I can focus more on where I want this to go. Which is lots of places. Our boy has places to see. Hope you enjoyed!


	35. Kakariko

Link had been an autumn baby, tumbling into existence as the leaves littered the ground in their rich golden hues. His cheeks were as round as the pumpkins ready for fall harvest and his eyes as rich and blue as the clear crisp skies that promised cold nights tucked together in front of a blazing hearth. He was the promise of warmth before winter, a reminder that life still blossomed even as the temperatures fell away and the sun folded itself in earlier and earlier for bed each night. 

His first year at the castle had coincided with a particularly brutal winter. One that had Ellia frantic as she wrapped his always flailing limbs into thick jumpers and even thicker jackets. Lennon often found himself grateful for his station, his heart calming at the sight of them cuddled together in his private Captain’s quarters, blessed to have such an insulated space to spend the long cold nights. He too would join them at the day’s end, all three of them burrowed under heavy quilts as the winds whipped and carved away at the stone fortress around them. Lennon credited that time spent together with Link’s reluctance to sleep alone. Even now he still reached out in his sleep, looking for someone to hold onto. They had set that precedent for him. That someone would always be there. Lennon wasn't sure if it served him well or would become a burden as he grew older. He knew now more than ever their time together was never guaranteed. 

That year had been Lennon’s favorite time with his son, perhaps because it had been the longest they had spent together before he moved away. He enjoyed his new son's immobility and his reliance on those around him to escort him from place to place, whether safe in his mother’s arms or perched atop his father’s shoulders. He reached for everyone and everything and talked constantly, even when he had yet to learn proper words with which to speak. Lennon remembered the first time he had truly laughed and that he never seemed to stop. He was such a happy boy and seemed to give his love so freely, though he reserved a special place in his heart for his parents, always reaching back for them when he’d had enough of strangers. 

So it was no surprise to Lennon to find Link close at his heels as they strolled up to the old shrine atop the hill that overlooked Kakariko, which held the spirit of autumn despite the actual season. It always smelled like someone’s grandmother’s kitchen window was open, filling the tucked away village with the aroma of fresh seasonal treats. Despite the hardness of its people in the castle, at home the Sheikah were much more relaxed, perhaps even inviting. Link picked up the scent of cinnamon in the air, his mouth watering at the thought of fresh pie. He looked up at his father with questions dancing in his eyes. 

“There is an inn here. We could stay a day or so before we move on. I know I could use some real sleep on a real bed and you need to rest too. But Link, we must be careful. We cannot be ourselves here. Impa is known to travel back and forth frequently with news from the castle. She may even be here for all we know. I doubt she would ever grace the inn, so we should be safe there, but we cannot be ourselves,” Lennon said, a serious set to his face. 

Link made a face of confusion and Lennon bent down to his level. 

“Let’s say...we’re fishermen. Yeah, that would make sense,” he began, clicking his tongue as he worked the impromptu story over in his head. 

“Fishermen?”

“Yes, on our way to see all great bodies of water to learn to master our art and capture all the species of fish in Hyrule. You’re my son, learning the family trade. You just celebrated your 6th birthday. You’re little for your age, so they won’t question it. We can’t go by our real names though...who do you want to be?”

Link only looked perturbed as he tried not to be irritated at his father, of all people, picking on his size. 

“But I’m not six,” he grumbled, “I’m eight”

Lennon laughed and sat back on his heels, amused at Link’s frustration. If lying about his age was the only trouble he had that day he could call it a success. 

“I know that, but they don’t. If Impa had shared details they would be looking for an eight year old, not a six year old, understand? You could always pretend to be a girl”

“I’m not a girl!” he huffed, crossing his arms, “This is lying!”

“Think of it more like playing pretend. Is playing pretend lying or just having fun?” Lennon offered, trying not to smile as Link pouted. 

“I don’t know” 

“Well I say it’s like a game. What character do you want to be? What shall I call you?”

Link did not know how to be anyone but Link and he could not fathom what he would ever be called instead of his own name. He had been called many things by many different people, such as “little man” or “little knight” or even “Linny” by that very kind Zora who refused to stop using the nickname despite how much he disliked it. He didn't feel like anything but Link.

“What about Niko?” Lennon offered, “It's what I wanted to name you, after your grandfather. But your mother insisted on Link. Said it ‘fit your spirit’”

“Niko” Link repeated, testing it out on his tongue. He’d never heard much of his grandfather before, only that he’d died long before he’d been born. The name felt familiar in the same way it felt foreign. 

“Yes, you look like a Niko,” Lennon laughed, “Do you want to name me?”  
  
“Uhh,” Link sputtered, still testing out the feel of his new identity. He didn’t know Lennon as anything other than Dad or when he had to be fancy “Captain”.

“You can just call me Papa, I’ll think of something,” Lennon offered for him. 

“Why not Dad?” 

Lennon smiled at the confusion that still had his forehead folded into so many wrinkles. 

“Because that is something you got from your mother. What does the Princess call her father?”

“Papa,” Link answered, admittedly too quickly. He found that when it came to the Princess he had memorized all the words she’d ever gifted him with. For that is what they felt like to him, gifts. He knew she had every right to ignore him or simply shoo him away, but she had chosen to befriend him instead. So he had taken on that role very seriously. 

“Yes, much like every other child in this region. But your mother was born in Labrynna. She called her father Dad like the children around her. She passed that along to you. I was never bothered by it and you never seemed to notice the difference so we went with it”

Link was quiet for a moment before answering in his softest voice, “oh” 

Suddenly Link felt overwhelmed by how much of his own story he did not know. He knew himself and he knew his family, but what was Labrynna? Was his grandfather brave like his father was? Would his grandmother have baked sweets for him and told him stories like old Ethel in Hateno? How much of his history was right there in his present and how blind was he to all of it? He felt very small as his father sat before him, almost a stranger if he looked hard enough. He had never thought to picture his parents as children. He had never thought of them before he was born at all. The very thought made his brain ache and his heart beat limply inside his chest. All he could do to communicate this unrest to his father was stare blankly.

“I’ve confused you, haven’t I?” Lennon asked with a tilt to his head. 

Link shook his head, hoping to shake away the unpleasantness of the unknown like a dog shakes away rain from its coat. 

“Come on, Niko,” Lennon grinned as he stood to his feet, reaching out a hand of offering, “I could use some pumpkin pie and a nap, what about you?”

“Is there apple pie here too?” Link asked, nestling his own hand in his father’s as they began to descend the hill.

“We shall see, won’t we?”

“Okay...Papa,” Link answered with a sly grin, finally feeling a smidgen of the freedom that comes with being someone other than yourself. 

The absurdness of it made Lennon laugh. 

* * *

They settled into the inn without drawing any attention to themselves. Lennon sent a prayer of thanks to Hylia that they weren’t the only travelers seeking comfort from the wilds. They were able to reserve a room and hide themselves away without so much as a sideways glance of suspicion. Though the hour had drawn late, the Sheikah were as awake as ever. Lennon had heard of their sleeplessness, but never seen it so prevalent as it was when they were at home. He could compare the busyness of their town square at night to what one might see in Castletown at noon. The shops remained open, children still ran and played, the elders still sat and watched safely from their doorways. 

True to his word, Lennon purchased Link an entire apple pie for dinner. When he sat it in front of the wide eyed child he’d had to stifle a laugh. Link tried his best to hide his excitement but it was as clear across his face as if it had been displayed for all to see across his forehead in bold print. Link knew it was something unheard of. To eat  _ only  _ dessert for dinner. To eat  _ more than  _ one slice of pie at a time. And he didn't even have to eat vegetables first. He’d done his fair share of sneaking extra bites when his mother wasn’t looking, but never had he been offered the entire pan before. It felt scandalous, but he wasn’t going to tell his father that. He was only disappointed in himself that he only managed to eat a quarter of the pan before his stomach began to feel queasy. 

Lennon devoured his own pumpkin confection and allowed himself to fall weightless onto the bed, savoring the way it cradled his weight. He felt himself drifting away, lulled by the distance wind chimes and pleasant breeze that drifted through well placed cracks in the windows. He barely managed to crack an eye to see Link staring longingly at the people down below in the square, his face illuminated softly in the moonlight. He thought of what the last two days had been like for his son, sitting idly and watching the hours pass, waiting for death to take his last parent away. Yet he hadn’t complained. From his vantage point on the bed he could just barely make out that spark of adventure behind his hooded eyes. He knew Link wanted to explore. 

“You can go look around if you want,” Lennon said, to which Link slowly turned his head. 

“But you said…”

“I know. But I know now that you can take care of yourself if you need to. You’re a smart boy. Just keep your hood up and remember your new name if anyone asks”

Link seemed to ponder that thought as he turned his attention back out the window. There were children running and sparring with sticks, old ladies chasing cuckoos, and merchants peddling weapons and potions. He had to admit he was immensely curious. He’d seen Hateno, Hyrule Castle, and Zora’s Domain, yet somehow Kakariko seemed to be entirely different from them all. He wanted to run and find its secrets. To climb its tallest trees. To see if their apples tasted different than Hateno apples. Did their apples come off the tree tasting of cinnamon? Where did cinnamon come from? Was there a tall cinnamon tree? Could he take the seeds home in his pockets? For the first time in a long time, the familiar weight of questions urged him forward. 

“But what if I see Impa?” he asked, torn between what felt safe and what felt fun. 

“I trust you’ve learned enough from her to give her the slip. Or am I wrong?” Lennon raised a brow. 

A mischievous grin crept across Link’s face as he nodded. 

“Go on then,” Lennon said, shooing him away with a hand as he lay his head back down on the bed. He lay a moment and listened to the silence before he cracked an eye to see Link still standing and looking as if he were weighing his options. 

“Unless...you’d like to nap with me?” Lennon asked slowly with a pretend pout, extending his arms in a slow dramatic fashion. 

“I’m not tired!” Link giggled as he turned his body away even though he was well out of reach. 

He was then only a blur out the door, Lennon’s laughter following him down the stairwell like a friendly ghost. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some days I feel like I've been ran over by a truck and can barely keep a coherent thought, other days I get a 2nd wind at 10:30 at night and whip out a whole chapter. That's just me.  
I'm hoping I get the next chapter out sooner because there is going to be a character in the next chapter I'm super excited to write. Things have been a little slow, but there will be drama soon, I promise. 
> 
> Also here is a little tidbit of info for you. When naming Link's father, I was sitting there blankly and listening to Pandora. Adore You by Harry Styles came on and I misheard a lyric as "brown skin and Lennon" instead of "brown skin and lemon over ice" and then I thought of John Lennon and thought it sounded good as a name and went for it. There's your glimpse into my thought process lol 
> 
> Hope you guys had a fabulous weekend!


	36. A New Friend

Link liked Kakariko despite its inherent danger. It felt like its own little world, tucked away between the dueling peaks like a secret kept hidden from the rest of Hyrule. He imagined some great lumbering giant hollowing out the space between the mountains, redirecting the river to overflow on its highest edges to give the valley its misty charm, cloaking the air in a delicate mist that tickled the inside of his nose like the promise of a sneeze. He thought of the people like a set of dolls, perhaps chosen carefully by the giant to inhabit the little hamlet, molded precisely to please it’s interests. 

They did all look so similar with their blanched hair, with so many of them styling it up like a bow on the tops of their heads. The thought amused him until he noticed how sorely he seemed to contrast to their clean charm. His hair was quite dingy compared to theirs and it hung wild around his shoulders, lifting as it pleased in the gentle tufts of wind. He tried his best to tuck it all under the dark fabric of his hood, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. His clothes weren’t quite as neat and tidy either, he noted. His mother would have scolded him for continuing to wear pants so roughly worn in the knees. He very nearly had a new pair of shorts for all the legs hung onto the upper part of his trousers. He liked the red trimmed cloaks all the Sheikah seemed to sport instead of the drab browns of the Castletown people. They looked cozy and soft, like something his mother would wrap him in after a bath. He wondered if his father would buy him one, but he knew he wouldn’t ask.

He walked casually along the path, tilting his head to observe the way the lanterns swayed in the breeze, carrying with it the scent of spring and fresh vegetables. He let his nose lead him into the doorway of a general store where an old woman sat still as a statue, her eyes closed as she breathed slowly in her accidental slumber. Link walked forward until he found himself eye to eye with a large basket of carrots, tumbled together in the handwoven container like a jumble of orange sticks. He had to tell his hands not to reach out and plop one in his mouth just to hear it crunch under his teeth.

“Hungry, little Hylian?” the shopkeep yawned as she batted her lashes awake to eye him curiously, “What’s a pretty little thing like you roaming about all alone for? Where’s your mama?”

He smiled politely but cast his eyes down to the floor, not knowing what to say. 

“Oh, and quiet too. I quite like you. Are you lost? It’s late for a little Hylian,”

He shook his head before shying out of the doorway, trying to avoid the watching eyes of the woman. He shuffled his way towards the center of the village before he found himself drifting towards a small bridge extending into the lazy stream that cut through the hill at the base of the valley. At its end sat a small squatty statue, not unlike those he’d seen in numerous places all over Hyrule. Hylia, his mother had said, the Goddess from which his people had been given their name. He found himself drawn to the soft lines of its face, the gentle way it seemed to hold its hands. It made him feel calm, like a puddle after a storm. Or that feeling when an adult held out their hand to him, offering the promise of safety and comfort. He wanted to move towards it so he did, feeling the tingle of something foreign prance across his skin, making the baby hairs on his arms stand on their ends. He didn’t get a chance to examine the statue too thoroughly before an object falling from the sky came in contact with his head, knocking his hood back to bunch around his shoulders. 

“Hey! You’re not a Sheikah!” a voice hollered from a distance that seemed not too far away, but not close enough that he could recognize where it had come from. 

Link rubbed at the back of his head, watching as the offending object, an apple, rolled off the small platform to bob in the warm water beneath the bridge. He scanned the hills for the source of the voice and found a small girl perched on the fence line just before him, a basket of apples balanced in her lap.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he said as she noticed him. 

“It’s my job to put an apple here, but I think it’s stupid. It can’t eat, it’s just a statue,” the little girl said with a roll of her eyes that sat behind a set of round red glasses that magnified her face, making her look more like an insect rather than a Sheikah child. She even seemed to move like one as she leapt off the fence line and rolled onto the path before Link, giving him a once over as she stood with her hands planted on her hips. 

“What’s your name,” she questioned, her eyes focused as she seemed to inspect him. 

“L-Niko,” he sputtered, catching himself as he remembered his new identity. 

“Luniko,” she repeated flatly, unimpressed, “How interesting”

“Niko,” he corrected more firmly as he straightened his posture under her gaze. 

She narrowed her eyes even further as she leaned in close to his face, almost close enough to plant a kiss right on the tip of his nose. 

“You’re a liar,” she stated plainly as she leaned back, seemingly pleased with her work. 

He found his mouth hanging open as he stared back at her smug face, eyes shining behind her scratched lenses.

“I am not!”

“Are so!” she sang as she buzzed around him before leaning in and dramatically snapping her fingers in front of his face. 

“I know so because  _ I  _ am a scientist and I investigate all the liars and I see that you are a big one, even though you’re small,” she said as she looked him up and down. 

Link’s face fell into a pout as he crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to say any more to her. 

“How old are you anyway? I am nine because I turned nine only three and a half days ago,” she explained as she leaned in to pick a piece of foliage from his hair. He backed away from her touch but she was quicker than him and held the broken leaf before him like a prize. 

“...I’m...6,” he grumbled, almost physically pained to make himself appear even younger than the girl who seemed all too pleased with herself that she’d managed to sneak up on him and insult him all before even properly introducing herself. 

She took in a deep breath and held it as she screwed her mouth to one side, making a show of thinking over his words before answering. 

“Liar, liar,” she sing-songed before giggling at the flush of red that spread across his cheeks as he scrunched up his face in irritation. 

“I’m not!” he argued, but it only made her giggle more. 

“Grandmother says I am very nosey, but I’m not. She is wrong. I watch everything because that is what a scientist does and I’m very good at being a scientist. It’s called _observation_ and I even know how to spell it because I saw it so many times. I’ll know everything one day, especially more than you,” she said as she spun around in a circle just to watch the way her robes fluttered. 

Link just stared at her. There was a small chaotic part of him that wanted to just tip her ever so slightly backwards so that she tumbled into the water, but he knew that wouldn’t be very kind of him. His mother always said it was best to be kind, but he also knew he really didn’t feel like being kind to someone who called him a liar and threw an apple at his head. He nearly reached out while her back was turned, but she spun around too quickly to stare right back at him. 

“Are you mad at me?” she asked with a genuine pout across her face, holding her hands together at her chest, mirroring the gentle statue behind her. 

“Yes,” he responded immediately. 

“Oh that is not a lie,” she laughed, causing her eyes to crinkle at the sides before she turned her back on him again to place an apple at the statue's feet. 

“Why are you here?” she asked as she balanced the fruit at the base. 

“Why are you here?” he quipped in return.

“I live here, you cracked nut!” she laughed as she spun back around to face him, “Where do you live?”

He thought it over for a moment. He couldn’t really say he lived in Hateno anymore. His things were packed into boxes he’d likely never see again. His bed was stripped of its covers, the hearth empty of logs. The table was likely still littered with old papers and not plates of breakfast or lunch. Yet, he didn’t want to call the castle his home either. He liked his father’s little room there with its stone walls and little couches and small spaces that forced them closer together, but he did not like the rest of the castle, nor being in such close proximity to the King who made him feel angry even when he did nothing but walk around the castle and stare judgmentally at everyone around him. He didn’t know the truth well enough to come up with a convincing lie so he said the first thing that felt right. 

“Wherever I want”  
  
She squinted at him long enough to decipher his truthfulness before shrugging.

“That’s weird. You’re weird. Your hair is like a bale of hay. Do horses ever nibble on you?”

Link made a face as he tried to process her rambling before a voice called out from the tall building looming behind them that sat perched atop a long set of stairs. 

“Purah!” the voice called and the girl seemed to deflate at the sound of it. 

“Well, that’s me. I’ve been caught. I have to go spin a stick and pretend to be an ant’s shadow or something. You better not tell anymore lies or I’ll tell the whole world you’re a liar and when I’m a scientist people will listen to me because I’ll be extra important. Even more important than Impa,” she declared, hands back on her hips as she made eye contact with the figure calling to her from the railing.

Link’s blood ran cold at the name, suddenly remembering where he was and who he might find lurking in the shadows, ready to drag him back into that dark cell under the castle. 

“Whose that?” he croaked out, trying to cover for the tremble in his limbs as Purah turned to stare at him again. 

The voice called for her again and she kept her eyes on him as she yelled back, “I found an experiment!”

He turned so that he could face the figure in the distance that seemed to be an elderly woman watching both of them carefully despite the space between them probably making them look quite small. Purah examined her form for a moment before smiling and turning to eye him from the side. 

“Okay, she said we could play”

“How do you know that?” he asked as he tried to measure the distance between them with his eyes. He hadn’t heard anything. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she grinned before shoving him lightly and running off, yelling, “catch me!”

“Hey!” he yelled back, chasing after her as the woman on the steps followed them until they were out of her sight. 

The two of them ran the paths of the valley until the moon stood tall and proud in the sky above them. They tumbled into pumpkin patches, took turns throwing rocks to knock apples off trees, and even made little boats for flowers out of fallen leaves, chasing their creations along the banks of the little river until they crashed down the miniature waterfall behind the sleepy goddess statue. They chased each other up and down the hill until they finally collapsed underneath the apple tree that stood tall at its peak. 

“I bet the roots of this tree are over 1,000 kilometers long. All the way to the middle of our world, I bet,” Purah said as they lay on the ground in front of the old shrine, panting for breath. 

Link turned his head and felt the grass tickle his cheek, “I don’t believe you” 

“How would you know!”

“Because that doesn’t make sense”

“You don’t make any sense,” she grumbled before flopping onto her belly and resting her face in her hands. 

“You came from the castle,” she stated plainly, changing subjects without warning as she kicked her feet in the air behind her, “and you know my sister, Impa too”

All the excitement seemed to fly from Link’s body like a startled flock of birds. He thought all the blood inside him had curdled or turned to jam and when he died from the loss of it, the ants would have a festival and feast on its sweetness for weeks. He did not want to think of Impa or the castle or Kings or being swatted with sticks. He did not want this new friend to be ruined by that which had ruined everything else in his life. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t seem to run from it.

“I don’t,” he said, trying to cover the quiver in his voice, but she was far too observant to miss it. 

“Yes you do. Your eyes go like this when I say her name and your face looks like a bowl of yogurt,” she teased, bugging out her eyes to mimic his panicked expression. 

When he fell back into silence she signed and flopped back onto her back. 

“It’s okay, I don’t like her either. She’s no fun. All she does is be serious all of the time, but grandmother says I am to be just like her. It's just...I don’t want to be just like  _ her,”  _ she said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Why can’t you just be like you?” he questioned, turning his head so she could see the genuine look on his face. 

She studied him for a moment, narrowing her eyes as if she were tracking a bug walking across his face. She stared for so long that he had convinced himself something was really there, lifting his hand to brush across his skin but finding nothing but a cold sweat. Finally, a grin broke through her serious expression and she launched herself off the ground and down the hill, silently instigating another round of chase. 

They ran for what felt like hours before the woman was back on the railing of the tall house, calling out for Purah again. The little girl stopped to bow at the woman’s call and turned to Link, breathing deeply to catch her breath. 

“She says you’re wild like the forest but even the forest needs to sleep and I need to go read a boring book now,” she translated for him as the figure motioned for her to ascend the steps, “I’ll see you later, Luniko.”

“Just Niko,” he corrected, but she only smiled at him mischievously as she leaned in and whispered, “ _ no it’s not”  _

He found his mind strangely empty and at peace as he stood and watched her fly up the steps. The girl and the elder shared a short conversation before the woman turned to nod at him still standing at the base of the stairs. Not knowing what to do, he simply bowed in return and made his way back to the inn where he found his father unconscious and snoring in the pile of soft bedding. He wondered if Purah was somewhere in the big house watching someone else’s movements. He wondered how the rambunctious little girl could share the same blood as Impa. He tried not to think of Impa as he lay beside his father, mumbling to himself as he drifted off to sleep that was well earned from the hours of play, a familiar state he found himself comfortably falling back into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I REALIZED after I wrote this that Purah is technically older than Impa. My Impa here is already aged up because canon wise she is similar in age to Zelda. HOWEVER, I desperately wanted to keep Purah little. So I took some creative licenses with age. I know that may bother some, but I didn't want to rewrite her character so we can all just accept that little piece of misinformation. Or not, it's up to you. But, for this story Purah gets to be baby sister. I don't think its too big of a detail story-wise anyway. 
> 
> It's been so hard to focus on writing after work, but I know the longer I go without posting, the harder it is to get back into the swing of it. So I hope my crazy translates well and you enjoyed baby Purah and Link playing. She's a rascal. Drama pending.


End file.
